


we are young (we are the dream)

by niniadepapa



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, fraternity and sorority au, the greek au i promised i'd write and finish and finally post on here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 87,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniadepapa/pseuds/niniadepapa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he was a fratboy. she was a sorority girl. can i make it anymore obvious?</p><p> </p><p>[college au] [idea from Greek, it goes its own path]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> even if it was posted on ff.net and tumblr, have it here too (i felt nostalgic about this story?)

Holy freaking hell, she was  _so_  gonna murder somebody that night if they spilt something over her shirt. She should have known better, after all - it was the week before the semester got started, which meant no classes to attend yet and days filled with last shopping sprees, night parties at the dorms and house hunting trips after discovering your assigned roommate was more resembling to an axe murderer that you were used to.

Oh, and of course drinks at the Emerald City, aka holy ground on campus.

Which equaled basically  _everybody_  attending CRU - except whoever felt like not socializing or drinking was up to their alley - was cramming the lively bar. 

And that, of course, included Emma and her friends. 

Ruby had dragged her there after an exhausting meeting with their sisters teaching them the ways of alluring newbies to joining the sorority. Though, sadly, not all of them would be considered ZBZ material: legacies, cute and hopefully with spirit; that was the motto Regina, Emma’s big sister and current ZBZ president, had drilled into her head since Emma had joined the sorority two years prior. Emma hadn’t really considered rushing at first. She hadn’t really thought she’d fit at all - she had never thought she’d fit anywhere,  _period_ , until Henry happened, that is. Alas, fate had intervened in the form of Ruby Lucas and her screeching when they bumped into each other while doing the laundry and bonded after discovering a mouse on the loose

(A mouse that, apparently, someone had explained to them later, only responded to the name of ‘Billy’.) 

Ruby had convinced her that it would be fun to rush together and if something caught their eye, they could try pledging. 

She would have never thought she’d actually find a second family in the ZBZ house, but she had. A dysfunctional, messed up family, with relatives that she only spoke to a handful of times a year and others whom she could not live without, but a family nevertheless that she was proud to be a part of. 

A house that, it seemed, had decided to join the rest of the Greek system and half of the university to go to the same bar and push her while she tried to navigate in between the tables and please, please,  _please don’t drop anything over my shirt_. 

She got to her seat - alcohol spills free, thank God - by Ruby after she spied her friend furiously typing on her phone. Mary Margaret would be joining them later - if there was any room left at the bar - while Aurora and Mulan had left in search of Philip. Emma sat and shoved Ruby’s drink in front of her, quirking an eyebrow at the new decorations over the summer. The yellow brick road painted on the floor leading to various spots where the tables were set was quite charming, if she said so herself. 

(It reminded her of the first time Regina had brought Ruby and the rest of the ZBZ pledges to the bar. When Emma had laughed at its name and ‘understanding that reference’, Ruby had clapped excitedly, squealing about how great it was to have a friend to watch Grey’s Anatomy with.) 

(She had looked too cute to break to her Emma was not talking about the TV show at all.)

Ruby finally lifted her eyes from her phone and smiled as she picked up her glass, clinking it with hers before taking a sip. “It tastes like home.”

Emma huffed. “And like waiting for ten minutes straight for the bartender to spot me.”

“Someone’s grumpy.”  

“I’m not - have you seen this place? And of course Mary Margaret won’t be here until at least an hour because we know she’s taking advantage of David having his own room at Omega Chi. Not that I can blame her.” 

She really couldn’t. Neal, being Robert Gold’s only son and heir of his empire - and practically owner of half of the campus - had had assigned a room his second year in the house. ‘Perks of being made of Gold’, as he always joked. 

She sighed, passing a hand through her hair tiredly. “And Regina won’t shut up about this Tamara chick who we just need to join the sorority or she’ll have my ass.” 

Ruby pursed her lips. “Well, to be fair, she  _is_  a senator’s daughter.” 

“I know, I know - she just -  _ugh_.” Emma thumped her head against the cool surface of the table, praying as she did so of it being at least half clean. 

Luckily for her, she avoided any other stains. For now.

Ruby snorted under her breath. “Regina’s testing you before she decides to leave you her perfect little ZBZ empire.” 

“Pretty much.” 

It was no secret in the house that Regina intended to assign Emma as the new president once she graduated at the end of that year. She had earned it, mind you, - she was pledge educator, she had come up with an insane amount of ideas to help with their philanthropy hours to fill, fought against silly clichés for their themed parties (really, ‘what dreams are made of’ and ‘a night to remember’? Really?) and had organized so many events through their social calendar she sometimes marveled at how she had been able to pass all of her classes. Not only Regina favored her for being her little sister and friend, she knew she had what it took to be a leader. But Ruby was right: she was testing her, and she only feared she’d be put through a lot more during the rest of the semester. 

The brunette bumped her shoulder with hers playfully. “Hey, cheer up! It’s rushing week and soon we’ll be having mixtures with the Omega chis, and parties, and the CRU fair, and Greek Week, and Spring Break…” 

“You’re too fond of parties,” she muttered, sipping from her beer decadently. How she loved the drama queen act here and there. Ruby had never appreciated it, though - just as right then. She just shook her head at her, dark curls bouncing in front of her face.  

“Whatever you say. At least I’m not moping over my pledge educator duties.” 

Emma groaned under her breath once more before going back to thumping her head over the table. Ruby was already patting her back comfortingly - or at least Emma hoped that was what her supposedly best friend was planning on doing, - when a gasp interrupted her. “Oh my God.” 

She had no energy or will left to raise her head. “What?” 

Her friend snickered. “Look.” 

She grumbled, already annoyed though too curious not to check out what had her sister so amused. The scene she took in was, by far, something she hadn’t been prepared to see. 

“Oh God.” 

Killian Jones, current president of Kappa Tau, in all his bare-chested glory and sporting a fedora, strutted around the bar, ridiculously large pint in his hand as he went over groups of students huddled in their seats , taking selfies with whomever looked his way. 

What an attention whore.

What a ridiculous, idiotic, attractive attention whore.

As if he had heard her, he turned and his eyes found hers, a smile lighting up his entire face and his feet already carrying him towards their table. Idiot. Idiot.  _Idiot_. “Hey there, Swan. Fancy seeing you here.” 

She managed not to scowl too hard. “Jones, what the hell are you doing?” 

He looked down at his very naked chest, as if he had just noticed he was, indeed, missing a shirt. “Oh, this?” He winked at her. “Feeling something, aren’t you?” 

Typical Jones. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah -  _nausea_. Why are you going around half naked?” 

“Simple: I refuse to give up the opportunity to sunbathe. Let’s make the summer last. You are more than welcome to lose your clothes too, of course, and join my cause.” 

“You are making a fool of yourself,” she pointed out, putting her hands over her hips. He just ignored her, shrugging off-handedly.   

“Everybody seems to be okay with it.” 

“I’m not everybody else.” 

His face softened at that, and she felt her chest constrict a little at the way that he looked at her and his voice dropped. “That, I know.” 

Her breath caught for a second, but she promptly shook her head, ignoring the prickling sensation that had come over her.  _Nostalgia_. “Seriously, can’t you just put a shirt on? Or, you know,  _grow up_?” 

He stepped towards her, his feet - which were thankfully covered, thank God for small mercies - barely touching hers. “Why, Swan, if I didn’t know better I’d say you cared.” 

_Where the hell was Ruby and why wasn’t she doing anything_. “I care about my puking reflexes over drunk fratboys who suffer from an oversized ego,” she said. He didn’t seem the least affected by her spitting words, though: in fact, they had the opposite effect, his smirk widening. 

“ _Or_  you care about me getting cold. Or about the attention I may get from other pretty lady.”

Her lips curled into a grimace. “You’re disgusting.” 

“You used to enjoy this disgusting idiot,” he commented, lifting an eyebrow, challenging her to deny it.

The thing was, she couldn’t. Because she  _had_. She had loved the disgusting idiot standing in front of her, the stupid smirk and the soft smile, the twinkling blue eyes and the rough stubble against her skin, the encouraging words whenever she was down and languid the kisses, the drunken nights and hangover mornings with takeaway on his bed, the yelling matches and the make up sex, the hours laughing at his horrible, horrible jokes and made up nicknames, the wild adventures spent together. It all seemed like an eternity ago, something from another life, different people who had fallen for the other. 

“People change,” she finally managed, gaze unwavering as she stared back at him. He cocked his head to the side, studying her, and she felt naked under his stare, that too-blue-to-be-true gaze focused intently on her.  

“Sometimes. Have you, Swan?” 

“Yes.” 

There was a pause in which they kept their stare-down, as the proud idiots that they had always been, not wanting to show weaknesses, especially in front of the other. Finally, admitting defeat - or not - the corner of his lip curled into a small smirk, and there was that glint in his eye again. “Keep telling yourself that, darling.” 

She jumped as an arm snaked around her waist, pushing her against a solid chest. “I should’ve known it’d be you making a scene.” 

Killian’s earlier mirth vanished in an instant, a cold detachment replacing it as he acknowledged the new arrival with a nod. “Keeps the game interesting. Gold.” 

Neal nodded back, dismissal written all over his face. “Jones. Now, care to leave my girl alone?” 

She was about to mention how she was standing right there and that she could pretty much tell the idiotic Kappa Tau to leave all by herself thank you very much, when the idiotic Kappa Tau in question rushed to interrupt her. “I’d say she can speak for herself, but sure, I’ll move along.”  He tipped his fedora in their direction. “Have a gold night, Neal. You too, Swan.” 

With a last lingering gaze in Emma’s direction, or so she believed, he left in direction of the back of the bar along with his brothers. She spied August, Victor and Jefferson at the table where they usually hung out, where she herself had spent more evenings she could count during her freshman year. With them she thought she could make out Ruby seating with Aurora and Mulan, who had their heads all together and had clearly been taking in the scene. (She confirmed it when Ruby just gave her a thumbs up, to which Emma just scowled back, still pissed at her for leaving her to deal with her ex on her own.) 

She was brought back to her own table when Neal left a kiss over her temple, scoffing softly and making her rearrange a rebel curl that insisted on escaping her ponytail. “I can’t believe you two dated.” 

She would swear over a hundred Bibles that she didn’t blush. 

“I was young and naive. And you have no room to talk,” she commented smugly, poking him in the ribs. Not many people on campus knew that sworn enemies Neal Gold and Killian Jones had once been best friends. Long-life almost since nappies best friends. Summer camp buddies best friends. Freshman year roommates best friends.  

And now they barely could stomach the other. Not only that, but the usual rivalry between their houses was off the roof since they had both joined, making everything a competition between them and their brothers. 

Not many people on campus knew that the reason they hated each other now was a girl.  

Neal’s expression turned wondering for a moment, but was short-lived. “True. He hasn’t changed at all since then.” 

“It’s not like you’d know that,” she commented. 

“Nor do I want to.” Neal shrugged, and snatched her beer with an easy jerk of his hand, sipping the rest of it before she could protest. Someone called his name then, and he dragged her with him to his friends’ table. While he bumped Robin’s back warmly and asked him about his summer, Emma couldn’t help but look back at the Kappa Taus, where she had once belonged. She saw Ruby flirting shamelessly with Victor - they had been an on and off thing for years yet had never decided to make it official, which in Emma’s opinion was ridiculous, but whatever, - while Aurora kissed Mulan’s nose affectionately, ignoring Philip and Jefferson’s catcalls with identical eye rolls. 

(She still remembered how hard it had been for Aurora as a pledge to come to terms with her having quite the big fat crush on her big sister in the house. How relieved she had been when she and her high school boyfriend Philip had broken up in good terms and he had supported her through it all. How Killian and his brothers had been an source of comfort and laughter when things became difficult at ZBZ with snide comments from other sisters or people from other houses came up with lame names to dub them or the entire house.) 

(She remembered a time when all of them could go out together, no matter their house; Neal and David and Robin hanging out with Killian and his friends, Regina not being so cold towards them, Mary Margaret and David’s relationship first steps.)

(She remembered seeing Killian for the first time. The first lame joke he used to try to charm her. The way he laughed at her sassy answer.) 

(She remembered him laughing.)

And now, above all in the scene at the other side of the bar, she also saw Killian laughing. August chuckled at something, shaking his head exasperatedly, but Killian was doubled over in laughter, bumping the table with his hand, the rough and warm timbre of his voice clear over the raucous room no matter what. 

(She had always loved his laugh.)

And a tiny part of her craved belonging there with them again.     

…

During rush week, Emma was about to pass out on her feet due to sheer exhaustion. Not only had she stayed up extraordinarily late for several nights covering every single detail in the house - from the decorations settled at the common rooms where they’d be meeting the new crop of freshman girls to the appetizers they’d be serving around. She also had spent quite some time helping Henry get settled on campus. She had showed him around, and kept giving him tips about the places where the food was good  _and_  cheap (student life and all), informing him of campus royalty who he should preferably avoid at all costs, and telling him about some classes he could take his next year in case he needed more credits with his honor program in engineering. She also encouraged him to call her whenever he was in trouble or just wanted to hang out and talk.

She had missed his little brother.

(Of course, they weren’t technically related. Emma had befriended him years ago, when she realized the gangly, younger boy was being made fun of by the jocks in their rather quaint high school back home. Apparently carrying around a fairytales book was considered some crime in those assholes’ eyes, who made it their purpose to mock Henry for it. Emma had had quite the reputation of not being messed up with, and as soon as she had stood up for him, they stopped bothering him altogether. Emma and Henry became inseparable after that, seeing as he had been quite the loner - just like Emma had been at that time. She discovered that Henry had been give up too at birth, but, whereas he had been adopted soon after it happened, she had been bounced from one foster home to another for years. Henry’s parents, when they realized how Emma being in his life had improved their son’s, offered to become their foster parents permanently and welcomed her to join their family.

At their offer, on another time, Emma would have bitten and barked at such a proposal just on principle - because such things just  _didn’t_  happen to her, not now and not ever, - but Henry’s eager face changed her mind. 

She hadn’t looked back since then and hadn’t regretted it ever since.)

(Who would have told her back then that some day she’d have a great group of friends, a perfect boyfriend, a house full of girls who respected her, a  _family_.)

She had been the most surprised when she saw that Henry had texted her that morning. She was certainly exhausted after rush the previous night, but made a point of curling her hair and putting on a nice sundress and meeting him at one of the cafes near his dorm. 

“Henry, I have a  _really_  busy day ahead, I hope this is important,” she rushed in between pants as she climbed the last steps to join him. He shuffled on his feet, careful not to meet her eyes, and she couldn’t help but frown. What was with him?  

“It is.” 

She inspected him more carefully and noticed the dark circles under his eyes. She put a hand over his forehead, feeling it, but he wasn’t warm. He slapped it away.

“What did you do last night? Have - have you slept at all?” 

He winced, and she grew even warier if she could. 

“Not really. I met your boyfriend at the Omega Chi house,” he admitted in a soft voice, and she felt her eyes grow wide. 

“Wait, you - you  _rushed_?” Oh God, this was a real nightmare. “Henry, I don’t…” 

He cut her before she could go on, putting his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. “I know. You think I am not fratboy material but I  _can_  be, I promise.” 

She felt a pang of pity surge through her for her brother. He thought she believed he didn’t fit somewhere, and the fact that he did  _hurt_. “Henry, it’s not that. Well, maybe a little bit is, but I’m just afraid you won’t be able to juggle both frat life - not to mention  _pledge_  life - and your engineering program,” she explained, taking his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. 

He looked up at her face, poking her in the arm with his free hand. “You’re being overprotective.” 

She smiled a little at that. “Nothing new there.” 

They stayed silent for a little while, and she guided him towards a nearby bench. They sat down together, and she saw his shoulder drop. He finally inhaled, meeting her eyes, and she saw the hope in them. 

“I - I just want to be a part of your life here.” 

Her hands gripped his even tighter. “You will  _always_  be in my life, no matter where.” 

He smiled at her, that toothy grin that had always managed to lit up his whole face and make her smile back in return, just like a mirror. He patted their joined hands, his face softening, before he went on. 

“But this is just not about me and you. I don’t want to be a loser. I want to have friends, and be a part of something, you know? This is about  _me_.”

Oh, God. He was looking at her with the big puppy eyes. It was so not fair.

She didn’t want to encourage him to do it, but she also knew he’d resent her if she didn’t support him on it or would consider that she really didn’t him to be a part of her life in college. Of course it wasn’t like that at all - she would have done  _anything_  to have Henry with her as soon as she set foot in CRU, she had missed him  _that_  terribly; but she also wanted everything for him. She wanted him to have the best in life, and she knew from experience that fraternity life led to trouble, - as in, party and distractions galore trouble - and with such a demanding major, she was worried.

But he was her brother. And he was giving her the puppy eyes. And she wanted him around so much more.

She sighed.

“Okay.” 

And the lit-up-face grin was back, just like that. “Okay. Cool.” 

She smiled at him, ruffling his hair and hugging him to her side. “Now - which houses did you visit?” 

He scratched the side of his head, and the troubled expression that she had spied earlier on him was back. “I met a friend of yours - Killian Jones, the president at the Kappa Tau house. He was cool.” 

“Stay  _away_  from the Kappa Taus, please.”  _Of course_  Henry would think her ex was cool.  _God_. She facepalmed, and suddenly his earlier statement came to the front of her mind. “Wait, you said you met Neal too?” 

He was purposefully avoiding her eyes now, and there was a sudden feeling creeping up her back while she looked at him wringing his hands nervously. “Yeah. That’s what I actually wanted to talk to you about.” 

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t look so eager to share. She finally gave him a little shove. “What is it?” 

Purpose stealing his features, he met her eyes straight on. “Neal told me to meet him after I was done rounding the houses. I - I saw him.” 

“And?” 

“He was with another girl.” 

She nearly choked on her own saliva, closing her eyes. “Henry…,” she started, but he ignored her. 

“They were kissing. And… their clothes were half gone,” he half-stammered, and she  _did_  gag a little at that.  

Her head snapped up to stare intently at him. His expression slipped from wary to pitying, and she felt her insides churning in shock and revulsion. She shook her head - this could not be happening, not to  _her_ , not  _now_ , not when everything was perfect in her life for once.

So she held onto the thing that would make it better.

_Denial_.

“Henry, you must be mistaken.” 

It was him who gripped her hand in his now, and she raised her gaze to meet his.  “Emma, I wouldn’t tell you this if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. The least thing I want to do is hurt you.” 

Her jaw quivered - she really wasn’t sure if with rage or confusion or the unbidden urge to cry. She felt dizzy, she thought she was ready to faint, or scream, or shout, or curse. Anything.

“But…,” she tried to speak - to deny what he was telling her, to explain herself, to explain Neal’s actions, she didn’t even know what at this point. Everything was crumbling down around her and she didn’t know how to make it stop. 

The pity in his eyes almost did her in. “I’m so sorry.” 

Before she realized what she was doing, she had let go of his hand and jumped to her feet, slinging her purse over her shoulder and whipping on her heel. “I gotta go.” 

“Emma…,” he tried, but she was already leaving, doing what she did best.

Run. 

She threw over her shoulder in a strangled voice, “I’ll call you later,” and went back to the house in record speed. 

…

She had switched off her phone, put on her rattiest t-shirt and headphones, and had been playing Taylor Swift’s entire discography on loop for the past two hours while she laid in bed. (She had also spent a good chunk of the evening playing Adele’s, but that was besides the point). As she curled into a fetal position, she ignored pretty much everybody who tried to talk to her: she was sure the news was out already - the stupid campus felt like a Gossip Girl episode, and the name Neal Gold was big enough to gather any listener mildly interested in idle campus gossip.

She guessed Henry must have tried to go check up on her, and even if it broke her heart to ignore him, she couldn’t face him right then. She was too embarrassed, too frail, not at all like the tough sister he’d always known and loved.

Thankfully for her, Ruby wasn’t at the house either - Emma suspected she was at Victor’s, but who knew with her roommate, really - so the room was all hers. That didn’t stop Regina from barging in after a loud knock on the door before Emma could even bark at whoever dared to interrupt her Taylor Swift induced pity party. 

“I don’t want to see anybody,” she whined, hiding her face in her pillow. Regina approached her, sitting gingerly on the edge, putting a hand on her shoulder.  

“I guessed that, but as president, I do whatever I want.” There was a pause, and Emma waited for her to state the obvious. “So. Neal fucked up, huh?”

Even if she tried, she couldn’t help but wince. It was official, then: everybody knew it.

“How did you find out?”

She heard Regina snort - which didn’t happen that often, seeing as she considered it un-ladylike. “Seriously? Gossip Girl episode, anyone?”

Emma groaned for what felt like the thousandth time that day, and burrowed her nose further into the pillow. Regina’s hand turned gentler, patting her softly. 

“I’m sorry Emma.”

Emma gulped down a fresh new wave of tears. God, would she ever stop crying? “I don’t want to see him.”

Regina sighed. “I know, sweetie. And to think it was with one of  _our_  pledges. What a douchepants,” she added bitterly, and Emma jumped, startling her friend to the point that she almost fell from the bed. 

“With  _one of our pledges_?”

Regina looked back at her, startled at the rage in her voice. “Well, kinda. She will be anyway. Tamara.”

Emma felt like passing out right there. This could  _not_  be happening. Not only  _had_  Neal cheated on her - but he had done it with the senator’s daughter whom Emma had been fawning over in order for her to join their sorority?

Was this some sort of  _sick joke_?

“ _Tamara_?! Are you fucking kidding me?”

Regina grabbed her hands, which were shaking frantically despite herself. “Emma - focus here.”

She stared back at her friend, confusion, hurt and pain squeezing her chest. “What?”

“I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. But what do you plan on doing?,” Regina inquired, arching an inquisitive brow at her. 

“Putting my fist on both Neal and Tamara’s faces.”

Regina shook her head adamantly. “You can’t fight with Tamara, we need her to join the sorority.”

Was she actually serious? This was unbelievable! How was she supposed to coexist with the girl her boyfriend had cheated on her with without expecting the house to implode?

“Are you serious? She slept with my boyfriend!”

“I know, but we can’t lose her as our pledge. She’s a senator’s daughter.” 

Emma averted her gaze. She felt horribly betrayed. She knew Regina was trying to look out for what was the best for the house, and she knew having Tamara in their ranks would gain points with Nationals and whatnot, but God, she didn’t want to see the girl, needless to say become her sister. 

Regina tried to appease her by putting an arm over her shoulders. “Hey, you can always make her life hell when you’re her pledge educator.”

She choked back a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

As a pledge educator, she so could use it as an advantage to use her as her slave. Make her fetch her lattes and do her laundry. Anything she could come up with. 

The thought brought a tiny, vengeful smirk to her lips.

“About Neal though…”

…and  _there_  went her earlier smile. 

“Do you want to slap him too? I’m just calling dibs on the first punch,” Emma offered, cracking her knuckles. She still couldn’t believe Neal had betrayed her like that. After Henry had told her his piece, she had tried to convince herself that it  _had_  to be a mistake. Neal wouldn’t do that to her, he wouldn’t outright go behind her back and sleep with another girl, right? He loved her. They  _loved_  each other. They were happy. It had to be a mistake, Henry must have confused him with another guy from Omega Chi.

But then, a soft voice in her head teased her.  _Are you sure? Why would Henry lie to you?_

Regina turned warning eyes on her, and for a moment Emma thought she could see doubt creeping in her friend’s eyes. “Emma, I don’t think you want to lose having Neal Gold in your life.”

Emma stayed quiet for a moment, waiting for the following ‘gotcha’. (Regina had always had a really sick sense of humor, so it wouldn’t have surprised her that much.) When it was clear Regina was, for once, not joking, Emma bristled. “He  _cheated_  on me. And he wasn’t even drunk or whatever. He just… he did it. He betrayed me.”

“I know. But wouldn’t you want to talk to him first? Hear him out?”

Emma frowned. Why in hell would she ever consider doing that? “Why? I don’t want to hear what he has to say.”

Regina shook her head, sighing heavily before staring at her evenly once more. “Emma. Neal Gold by your side is one of your best assets. I wouldn’t throw it away just for this.”

Emma bit her lip. Could she do it? And would he even want her back, for that matter? As a kid, having been passed from one family to another had taught her that there’d always be someone better than her; that she’d never be chosen over them. Even if she considered the chance of taking Neal back after this, would he want to, after having been with the senator’s daughter? 

But  _how_  could she make herself try to trust him after this anyway? He  _knew_  how easy it was for her to close herself up, he must have known something like this would break her. Had he done it on purpose? How could he? 

Didn’t he care for her at all?

“I can’t trust that he won’t do it again, though,” she finally muttered, meeting Regina’s gaze. She was met with steely dark eyes, and red lips curled in a vengeful smile that sent a shiver through her spine.

“Then do whatever you need to call it even and move on.”

…

“Well, this is most certainly a surprise. What are you doing here, Swan?” a taunting voice she found disturbingly familiar said behind her.

She whimpered. Someone  _had_  to be having a real kick right now at her expense, she just knew it. Couldn’t a girl get wasted on tequila shots, play darts and wonder when her life had turned into a cheesy flick in peace?

(At least there were no zombies, vampires or werewolves. For now. That she knew of.) 

She was already feeling the buzz of the alcohol in her veins, God bless. 

Emma turned to face him, hoping her suspicions were wrong. Unfortunately they weren’t.

Killian had a point, though. It had been him who had brought her to that bar in the first place years before. She had never told any of her friends about it, though, even if she quite liked it: the pirate-like style of the place, with its wooden croaking floors resembling the deck and quarters of some old ship, the heavy scent of rum coating the air, the soft background music that almost sounded out from another century. But even if she loved the place, it felt… rude bringing somebody besides him there, like inviting an stranger somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. 

Bad form, as Killian used to say.

“Oh. You put a shirt on,” she commented with a fake smile, as she went to take a sip of her glass of beer. 

“Sadly for you.” He arched an eyebrow. “Now - why are you at my hidden spot, may I ask?” 

She snorted into her glass, a coughing fit delaying her chance at responding. “It’s not like you have some sort of claim over it or something,” she finally choked out.  

“Stop deflecting.” 

She turned to him, and, picking up her glass, she practically shoved it into his chest, not breaking eye-contact as she did. “I’m here to drink.” 

“You’re here to hide, you mean.” 

She resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, she avoided his all too knowing smile, and jerked her chin in the direction of the dart board. “I’m here to play…,” she turned to him, tauntingly licking her lips and far too pleased by the way he stared at her mouth, “and to kick your ass.” 

He smiled, surely amused by her sudden bashfulness. “Wanna bet on it, darling?” 

She gulped, but nodded, all business. She was anything but confident in her darts skills. “Sure.” 

He swaggered towards her - because there was no other word to describe how he approached her, dammit, - until they were almost touching, the hard planes of his chest nearly brushing hers. He tilted his head, waiting for her to declare the conditions on their bet. The thing was, she hadn’t had real time to think her plan through, so the first thing that came to mind, she said.

“If I win, you have to streak down campus.” 

Oh, that could be  _fun_  alright.

He grinned wolfishly at her, tongue pressing against his cheek in amusement. “To your greedy lustful eyes, huh? Naughty, Swan.” 

She ignored him. “And if you win…” 

“I get something. Anything I want,” he rushed to say, and her eyes sought his immediately, startled. 

“Anything?” she asked, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“Anything,” he echoed, and she nodded, pleased.

“Okay. Let’s play, then.” 

It was a fair match, full of teasing and bantering and innocent - and far from innocent too, mind you - touches between the two of them. But, even if Killian was a decent player, Emma had the advantage, and both Killian and she realized that. The last throw was hers, and they both knew after checking their scores that, as long as she got at least 10 points, she’d have it in the bag.

And that’s when she missed. 

Like, throwing the dart out of the board, leaving a tiny mark on the wooden plank at the wall and falling to the ground with a snapping sound to the bartender’s dismay, who glared at her and muttered about fratboys and sorority girls ruining his bar at last. 

Killian turned to stare in disbelief at her. “You missed. Did you do that on purpose?” 

“Maybe,” she stammered, avoiding eye contact and fixing her gaze instead on her feet as she got to stand right in front of him. Her hand came up to rest on his chest, her fingers going to the charms that he wore and tugging on them lightly until his own hand wrapped over hers.

“Why?” 

She saw the confusion in his face. He had been sure she would win, and he appeared to be okay with it - the guy didn’t have a shame bone in his body, that was for sure, and streaking was probably something not entirely challenging for him to do. But she had blown it off on purpose. 

And he deserved an explanation, even if she thought it was pretty obvious by the way her own gaze lingered on his lips and flitted briefly to his eyes.

“Anything you want, right?” 

She was already surging to claim his lips with hers when his arms came to rest on her shoulders, keeping her pretty much literally at arms’ length. She felt briefly mortified at such blatant rejection - she had thought he had implied earlier by that breathless ‘anything’ that had what he wanted was  _her_.  Now she was pretty lost, and her cheeks flamed in embarrassment and  _God could she leave there already?_

Instead, he tilted her chin up so she’d meet his eyes. “Okay. I want to know why you’re here upset and clearly throwing yourself at me.” 

Was he actually using his reward to know why she was upset?

She didn’t know if she should feel touched or angry. She chose not to really think, instead shutting her eyes closed and exhaling sharply. 

“Neal slept with one of our pledges,” she finally admitted, and kept her eyes closed in mortification. It was one thing that her friends knew, that Henry knew, that the entire campus knew. But somehow, telling Killian - it was even worse, saying out loud how the guy who she had left him for had cheated on her. She half expected him to point at her and go all ‘I told you so’, or something equally douche-y, - and hell, she wouldn’t even hold it against him at all. She had always been a firm believer in ‘you brought this to yourself, so suck it up’ and karma. Maybe if she hadn’t broken up with Killian and chosen Neal instead of him, things wouldn’t have been like this. 

Yet Emma wasn’t really a fan of ‘what if’s and whatnot.

Instead of laughing at her, or asking for details - or with who was it that Neal had slept with, - he just stared harder at her, trying to read her expression. “And you wanna get back at him.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And if it had been other guy, it’d have been cool too.” 

Damn him. “I’m upset and a bit drunk, so yeah, pretty much,” she claimed, waving her free hand in the air languidly. She knew she wasn’t fooling anybody, and the least of all him, but she had always been proud as hell, and she would not admit the truth.

She had come to his stupid secret bar in the hopes that she’d run into him. If she had to get even with Neal, it’d be with no one else but him, dammit. 

As she had expected, he just smiled knowingly at her, inching closer until his lips were by her ear. “Liar.” 

She gritted her teeth, letting her back hit the wall beside the dart board with a sigh. Even if it was true that he had expected to see him, and if she went through with her ‘plan’ of taking it out of her system and whatever crap Regina had insisted she did in order to be able to move past the cheating incident, she didn’t want to get Killian’s hopes up. “You and I - we, we were a mess, Killian.” 

She saw him letting out a long breath from the corner of her eye, as she was far more interested in picking at her nails at the moment. “Well, do you still want this mess, Swan?” 

…did that mean what she thought it did? 

“Really? You want to?,” she asked as she carefully tucked a strand of hair that had managed to flee her bun behind her ear. Killian flashed her a grin, big and honest, - even though a part of her that she tried to shut up and ignore screamed that it really wasn’t one of Killian’s real smiles. 

“I get to spend the night with you, and piss off Gold in the process. Win-win,” he sing-songed, and stepped until his nose was brushing hers, that stupidly confident smirk of his taunting her and screaming at her to  _wipe it off his face_. “What do you say. Do we get messy?” 

She didn’t let him finish, her arms wrapping around his neck and holding him as close to her as she could, breathing him in. He didn’t waste any time at all either, one hand burying itself in her hair and the other gripping her hip tightly, and she gasped into his mouth at the feeling of his hands on her again. It had been so long,  _God_.

His lips tasted of rum, and she tilted her head back, baring her neck for his kisses.

(She  _had_  missed him.)

…

She woke up with a pounding headache, the smell of pancakes and rum engulfing her and a warm body glued to her back. For a guy with such a manwhore reputation as his, it surprised her that he was still so partial to sharing body heat by keeping arms and legs as entangled as possible with each other’s. She winced when a sudden flash of pain went straight to her head - those shots of tequila had seemed like a great idea at the moment; and even sharing Killian’s flask of rum, which he never parted without, had too. 

Oh, and jumping into bed with him, of course. 

Yeah,  _that_  had happened. Boy, it had happened several times through the night, she was pretty surprised she was even able to move at all. The flashes that came and went through her mind were brief - them kissing at the Golden Compass, her taking off her bra under her shirt and throwing it at him during their walk back to the KT house to get a rise out of him, Killian throwing her over his shoulder and practically sprinting until they got to his room, almost tearing their clothes off in their haste to feel skin against skin at last. Killian’s eyes shining with a hunger she had almost forgotten as he loomed over her, her own need to have him touch her, the utter feeling of completion at finally, finally having him inside of her. The amazing realization of knowing that it was because of her, because of Emma Swan, that he was completely wrecked, ruined beyond repair, aching for her. Neal might have had to go to some other girl, might not feel what she had felt, but Killian for sure did, and had never missed the chance to tell her - nor did he hide his feelings, specially in the cocoon they had built between his sheets, the circle of his arms a safe net she had always known was still there, no matter what, just in case she ever wanted to go back to them. 

Something gripped at her heart thinking about it. She knew he still had feelings for her, and even if he had known what she was doing the previous night and what it was all about, she wasn’t the kind of girl who enjoyed taking what she sought and leaving them high and dry. Especially to him. Even if Killian and she were over, she still cared for him a great deal: he was a part of her life, a very important one at that, someone who had wormed his way through the armor built around her heart and made himself at home in it. It was hard to forget. 

(She didn’t know she even wanted to forget.)

She crept out of his sheets - she muffled a laugh behind her hand when she realized he still had the Spongebob Squarepants ones, Goddammit, why was he such a kid? - and tiptoed to where her tank top and shorts were - not before picking up her panties from literally the other corner of the room. Her bra was missing in action, and she internally winced at her own stupid drunk self. It had been quite expensive, and now it was gone. 

“You used to be sneakier.”

She rolled her eyes, even if a part of her shivered at the roughness in his voice.  

“Shut up,” she growled as she fished her boots from under his bed, not caring anymore about the noise. He was awake now.  

She could hear the smirk in his voice as he kicked her side lightly with his foot. “But still as grumpy in the morning.” 

She slapped his foot away with a squeal - he knew she had a weird thing with people’s feet - and stood up in search of her purse. “I’m trying to do the whole walk of shame with some self respect here.” 

“Too bad.” 

Fighting unsuccessfully another eyeroll, she finally located her purse - hanging from the lamp? Really? - and with a last check up on his mirror, she turned to finally look at him, all rumpled hair and dimples. 

“See ya, Jones.” 

He blew her a kiss, putting his arms behind his head and lounging like a king on his bed. “Bye, sweetcheeks.” 

She scrunched up her nose, unsettled, a hand gripping the handle on the door and ready to leave, but something was… not feeling right. She bit her lip and whirled around, looking back at him accusingly. 

“That’s it?” 

He had the decency to look at least confused. “What?” 

“Aren’t you… mad at me?” 

Now he just looked curious, arching an eyebrow as he inspected her like she was still drunk. She might be, for all she knew. “Why would I?” 

Fighting a groan, she leaned against the wall, passing a hand through her unruly hair - which was in dire need of a hairbrush, but she was  _not_  going to ask Killian Jones for one, that was for sure. “Because I’m not cuddling and kissing you? Because I may even plan on going back to Neal?” 

Why was she telling him this?

His expression sobered, though he didn’t move from his place on the bed. He just cocked his head to the side, looking at her as he always did, as if she were an enigma he couldn’t figure out - even if he always did, no matter how hard she tried to fool him into thinking he couldn’t. “I know when I’m being used, Swan, as much as I would like not to.” 

_Ouch_. 

She grimaced, and without almost noticing what she was doing, her feet moved on its own accord to come closer to the bed. “Killian…” 

He sighed, dropping his hands in front of him and rubbing them together distractedly. He met her eyes, and she stopped herself, almost afraid of his next words. “As for doucheGold… he doesn’t deserve you.” He nodded at her, waving a hand in her direction with his trademark smirk. “Nice day, Swan.”

She knew when she was being dismissed, and without a word, she left his room, quietly closing the door behind her, the accusation in his words ringing in her ears. She felt both ashamed and angry - he  _had_  known what she had been looking for, he had no right to be mad at her, but she also felt guilty for going through with it anyway. 

The turmoil of feelings inside of her were pretty much overcome by the embarrassment of finding the entire KT house clapping and hooting at her as she made her way down the stairs, ignoring her weak protests of ‘we fell asleep while we were studying!’. Eventually, she forewent any attempt at excusing herself, and took a bow instead to Victor, August and Jefferson’s delighted guffaws.

 


	2. Chapter 2

She was trying to slip quietly up the stairs towards her room unnoticed - as much as she possibly could, at least: girls in their house noticed even when you wore one button on your shirt undone, she _cringed_ at what they’d say if they saw her wearing her clothes from the previous night - but a loud throat clearing halted her steps. Regina stood by the living room, arms crossed over her chest, and Emma’s shoulders slumped in defeat when she saw her. She silently followed the ZBZ president to the couch, where she faceplanted for all purposes. She was so tired - and hungover - she just wanted to sleep for the rest of the semester. (And maybe she felt a little bit sore, too, who was she kidding. Killian could be as rough as a sailor, and she had more than enjoyed the way his fingers had left marks on her hips, the almost brutal pace he had set and his bruising kisses the night before.)

Regina wrinkled her nose, clearly not impressed by her rather unkempt appearance and mussed hair, but Emma didn’t have it in her to come up with anything to shoo her judging thoughts away. 

With a shake of her head, Regina finally stated, “Well, I most certainly wasn’t expecting _that_.”

Huh. Not what she really had expected either. “What do you mean?”

“Killian Jones? Seriously? _Again_?”

How the _hell_ had she already found out? It had been been around thirty minutes tops since she had left the KT house! 

Instead of whining about that, Emma felt anger surge through her, and she raised herself from the couch, glaring at her friend. “You don’t get to judge me. You told me to do whatever I needed to get even with Neal. Guess what? I did. So there.”

Regina huffed, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder, and Emma wanted to shake at the blassé manner in which her friend was suddenly talking to her. “Emma, I was aiming more towards a nobody you ran into in a bar or something, not your ex whom you appear to not be really over with the blue eyes and stupid smirk.”

Emma gritted her teeth. There was _no way_ she was going to defend herself after she had just done what Regina had suggested. She hadn’t specified whom she had to go take to bed, and, as much as it had ended in a rather cold place, she didn’t regret her decision. She was _so_ not ready to talk about her whatever it was with Killian. Not now, not ever, if she had any way in it. 

“Whatever. It’s done.” Taking a peek at her watch, she remembered the issue of how the fuck had she already known about her and the KT president. “How did you find out, anyway?”

“Philip texted me.” Aurora strode in, smirking in her direction and waving her phone in the air like a white flag. Her girlfriend followed behind, trying valiantly to hide a smile as she inspected Emma’s wrinkled clothes. Mulan just arched an eyebrow and mouthed a ‘nice’ in her direction, and Emma couldn’t help but scowl.

“This Gossip Girl crap needs to stop.”

“Welcome to the 21st century, Emma Swan,” Aurora joked, and Emma rolled her eyes.

She _knew_ what they were doing, of course. She hadn’t really let her friends comfort or take care of her since she’d found out about Neal and Tamara, but knowing them, she could guess they’d decided to try to keep her entertained and show their support no matter what.

Even if it meant joking about her sleeping with her Kappa Tau ex, or so it seemed.

Aurora plopped down next to her, unlocking her phone screen, and Emma was already bracing herself for whatever it was that her friend was so eager to show her.

Nothing good, that was for sure. 

Before she could protest about her hangover being punishment enough for her impulsive decision the night before, Aurora had already pressed play on a video file, and she saw herself exiting the KT house under a thunderstorm of applause and hollering from the entire house. She tried to hide her face behind one of the dozens of cat-shaped cushions that decorated the couch, and ignored Mulan’s sniggering behind them, but then she heard Killian’s name being called, and she saw him on the screen, coming down the stairs and joining his brothers as they chanted his name excitedly. She peeked from behind the cushion, surprised to see him waving away the Kappa Taus’ incessant catcalls, and telling them to shove it when they asked for him to share the whens and whys and wheres and hows of his night. Killian slapped one of his brother’s back after a rather crude question was asked, and murmured something about ‘a gentleman never kisses and tells’, and then sat beside August, stealing his cup and taking a gulp of whatever it was. (She could be fooled into believing it was coffee, but knowing them, she’d bet it was prepared the Irish way.) 

She also didn’t miss the way Killian looked at the door she had previously left through.

Emma shook her head - both to try to wish her hangover away and to make the unwanted thoughts concerning Killian Jones fly from her mind. “I need a shower,” she announced to no one in particular. 

Regina just sighed at her right, taking Emma’s arm in her hand and sniffing her skin from a safe distance. She scrunched up her nose, and Emma had to suppress a giggle at the dismay her friend was displaying. 

“You _so_ do. Kappa Taus germs. Ew.”

 

 

(...)

 

Hours later, she was shaken awake by Mary Margaret and Ruby to tell her that there was someone at the door waiting to see her. She had dozed off during their ‘pick me up’ movie marathon - which she had insisted she didn’t need at all, but of course her protests had been ignored nevertheless - after a rather long shower. She wouldn’t admit to anybody on Earth and not even to any ghosts roaming it how she had scrubbed herself to the bone but not for the reasons her friends would think. 

Maybe it wasn’t the thought of Kappa Tau germs that made her scrub her skin raw, but her need to erase the ghost feeling of his touch on her.

She quickly put on the first hoodie she saw in her closet over her pajamas and followed her friends down the stairs, crossing out in her mind the possibilities of who it could be. Definitely not Killian - she knew him well enough and after that chilly farewell in his room she wasn’t expecting any visits from him anytime soon. 

She had texted Henry earlier that day assuring him that she was fine - or as fine as she could be, at least, so she didn’t really think he’d bother her at east until the next day. (The kid was too sweet for his own good, and she was pretty sure he’d show up anyway to check up on her if she dared to not answer any of his messages.)

So that only left one possibility.

Neal.

She fought the amusement off her face when she took in the scene before her - all of her friends had gathered themselves at the door, arms crossed over their chests and staring ahead at him, accusation clear on their faces. It was most definitely working as a threatening tactic: Neal could barely keep himself still, shuffling awkwardly on his feet and quickly averting his eyes as soon as they settled on one of the glares directed at him. 

Emma walked past Aurora, Mary Margaret and Ruby - and even Tink and Ariel, who had somehow heard of what had happened and had joined the hostile front her sisters had set up, - and joined Mulan at the door. She gave the girl a reassuring nod, and with a final fast glance in Neal’s direction, Mulan backed off, closing the door behind her and leaving them alone (or at least with as much as privacy as they could get in the ZBZ front garden). 

He was a mess, she noticed with interest. She guessed she should be surprised that he had actually had the balls to show up at her house and confront her instead of settling for a phone call, a text, an e-mail or even stopping talking to her altogether. She knew better than anybody all about how he tended to avoid confrontation at all costs, - and how he had picked it up from his father. She had experienced firsthand how he managed to pass the blame to somebody else seamlessly whenever trouble arose. 

But he was there. This one time, at least, he _was_ there, and it tugged at something inside of her.

She didn’t know how close she could stand to him, so she opted to stay just a step away from the door - just in case she needed to flee - a good few paces between them. Seeing as it seemed like neither of them felt like breaking the silence, she cleared her throat, urging him to speak. He tried to muster a smile - tricky, at the situation they were in, - and he waved lamely at her. “Hi.”

She only nodded, half frozen on the spot. “Hey.”

He stepped carefully in her direction - and she was sure he couldn’t have missed her cowering to the door. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it.”

There were _so_ many things Emma wanted to say to him at that moment - you were horny, you were drunk, you’re just done with me like everybody else, - but she bit on her tongue, almost drawing blood. She looked up to find his eyes fixed on her, pleading and pitiful.

“Can you forgive me?”

She wished the shakiness in her voice to go away, but to no avail. “I don’t really know.”

He closed the distance between them, carefully wrapping his hand over hers, and for once his touch didn’t reassure her at all - it just made her feel cold, and alien, and unwanted. She fought a goose bump at the unknown feeling, and prayed for it to flee soon if she was to try to make it work with him again.

He tipped her chin with his free hand, and she met his gaze evenly. “I swear, Emma, I will never let you down again. I just need a chance to prove to you how much you mean to me.”

Something flared to life in her core, and she couldn’t help but lash out at him. “You wouldn’t have to show me hadn’t you slept with one of my future pledges.”

She winced as she said it, still hurting over it all. Not only had he slept with another girl: he had tried to hide it from her, he had also blackmailed her brother with promises of letting him join their fraternity as long as he didn’t say a word to her about his encounter with Tamara. Emma suspected he’d have bought everybody’s silence - he certainly had the money - just so she’d be kept in the dark, and the possibility of her being the only one not knowing made her feel sick.

He closed his eyes shut, grimacing as if he was in actual pain. Good. “I’m so, so, _so_ sorry. I feel like a total douche.” 

The _‘you should’_ almost slipped past her lips but she bit her tongue - _again_ , she was getting exponentially worried about it at that point, - and instead focused her gaze on her slippers. (White and resembling swan’s feathers, a gift from Neal the previous Christmas, actually.) (And again, looking at them didn’t fill her with warmth, it just made her want to pick up every gift and picture and shirt of his she owned and throw it in the trash.)

She saw from the corner of her eye the tip of his stupidly shiny shoes almost touching hers, and her chin was lifted up once more. He stared down at her earnestly. “I want to make it up to you. Will you let me?”

As she looked at him pleading with her, she saw the boy who had been one of the first people she had ever talked to when she first arrived on campus, young and alone and terrified. One of her first friends, when the two of them along with Killian became inseparable, - ‘the three musketeers’, as Killian had dubbed them. (He also had insisted once on them all getting code names but Emma had drawn the line there). The hazel eyes that had followed her around, making sure she was never alone when she was still dating Killian; the eyes that witnessed how she quietly felt like her boyfriend slipped away from her, distracted by his new shining life in college full of friends, beer-pong and never ending parties. The silences they had shared together once they realized that there were feelings for each other that had been harboring beneath the surface. 

Killian’s betrayed face when he had realized.

The mourning of a mutual friend when the three musketeers were no more. 

Their first kiss. Their first night together. Their first anniversary. So many firsts, and she had no idea if a lot of them would become the lasts.

She thought about how she had sometimes wished she was given a second chance, once their foster parents tossed her away. How she had wanted someone to tell her what she had done wrong so she could change, and be better for them. She thought of what Regina had said, about how her life with Neal would be everything she had ever dreamed of. (And what her friend hadn’t said, too - how her being with him was an advantage for her if she was to become next president, even if that was the last thing on Emma’s mind at the moment.)

Emma chose.

As she let herself be hugged by Neal, and with that accepting his apology and the chance to let them try again - just as Mary Margaret and Regina had hoped for, - she saw over Neal’s shoulder a group of people on the sidewalk. As a veteran of campus, it wasn’t too difficult to recognize them as Kappa Taus, mainly because of their guffaws, their flair for dramatics as they walked and the fact that one of them was already passed out drunk while the rest of his friends carried him to their house. 

Her gaze landed on Killian just as he stopped short on his steps when he noticed her with Neal, Jefferson almost slipping from his grasp as he did. (Of course it was Jefferson who had drank himself to sleep, the guy couldn’t say no to a round of shots even if he tried.) She froze in Neal’s arms, but didn’t dare to move. Seconds later, Killian shook himself, carefully maneuvering his friend so he’d stay standing, and with a nod in Emma’s direction, they made their way towards the Kappa Tau house.

And once again, as she saw him leave, she felt as if Neal’s embrace didn’t warm her like it used to - not anymore. And she wondered if she had made the right choice. 

 

 

(...)

 

 

She had almost lost count of the times she had looked at her phone that morning, waiting for an email from her professor. And maybe a text from Henry. Or a call from... whomever wanted to know from her. 

To be fairly honest, she was just trying to distract herself in order not to think. But of course she didn’t like being honest with her friends - or at least when it implied showing weaknesses. 

“So. You’re really back together.”

She let out a groan. Couldn’t she escape him for a week? Or anybody else’s judgey statements disguised as ‘concern’? To say she was getting annoyed at it all was the understatement of the century, that was for sure. She had avoided Ruby that morning for their usual breakfast before class - Emma’s was “Women through History”, whereas Ruby had “Communication 301”, - so she could stay away from another assault of inquisitive glances and the same questions she had been hearing since she gave Neal another chance.‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ ‘You know, even if you don’t follow what Regina told you, it’s okay if you admit you’re not okay,’ ‘Are you 100% you are okay with this?’

She appreciated their concern, but at the same time she just wished they’d stop and drop it already. She understood that they were worried that she’d made a mistake of catastrophic dimensions (once a cheater, always a cheater, right?), but this was her mess and she’d take care of it. She was so used to fixing her crap since she was practically in nappies, it was unsettling to realize she actually _had_ people willing to help and who genuinely cared for whatever happened to her.

Henry had made his feelings on the matter pretty clear - as in, he couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to get Neal back. After the whole trying to buy his silence thing, there was no love lost between her boyfriend and her brother, she feared, which only added another obstacle to her already precarious relationship with Neal. 

It also didn’t help that, instead of joining the Omega Chis, - whose bid to join the fraternity had been less than cordially retracted once Neal found out Henry told Emma about his rendez-vous with the senator’s daughter, - Henry had joined the Kappa Tau house. She dreaded to think that her previous relationship with Killian or the obvious animosity between Omega Chi and Kappa Tau had had anything to do with Killian offering her brother a place in their ranks, but apparently during rush week, Henry had made quite an impression on the KTs at their secret party by fixing their AC in matter of minutes (which had been broken for years) and by beating an active at beer pong on his very first game. 

She hadn’t exactly shared her history with Killian with her brother, though if her ex boyfriend had told him already - or any of their brothers, - Henry hadn’t commented on it. 

And now, after not talking to Killian Jones since she had left him in his room that fateful morning, he sat at the empty chair that Ruby usually occupied, fixing her with an inquisitive brow. She just couldn’t win, could she? 

“Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Judge me.”

He raised his hands in mock innocence. “I merely asked a question.” 

She gritted her teeth in frustration. _Of course_ Killian Jones would put her on the spot. Though it wasn’t like he didn’t know already about her and Neal, - it had been quite the gossip through the entire campus for the past weeks, - but he’d just make her say it no matter what. With what purpose - apart from making her life more difficult than it already was, - she’d love to know. 

“ _Yes_ , we are back together. Though I guess we could say he’s on probation.”

He ‘ _oh_ ’ed loudly, lounging in his chair - Ruby’s chair - and smiled cockily at her. “No sex, huh?” Rubbing his hands together, he commented as if he didn’t have a care in the world, “Well, Swan, if you do need to get some release...”

She groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. “Please don’t, _again_.”

Fuck him. Of course he’d know what she meant by that and how she’d react once she took back Neal. (And of course Neal was in the dog house. The thought of having his hands of her after knowing that he’d been with someone else made her skin crawl uncomfortably.) She just wished she knew how to move on, as Regina had insisted she did. Her stunt withKillian had helped in the sense that she had been able to assure Neal with utter satisfaction and smugness dripping from every word that ‘they were even’, once they tried to have a serious talk about their re-taken relationship. She had taken a sick pleasure in witnessing the flash of understanding in his eyes, but it had been short-lived, though. The fact that she had slept with Killian just to get back at him had also brought a lot of conflicted feelings concerning her ex boyfriend, and by no means had managed to aide her in her quest to search a way to go back to how they used to be. Just Neal and Emma. Them. She just didn’t know how to act around him anymore - not like her girlfriend, anyway. Not how she used to be. When she was with him, it felt like they were total strangers, constantly walking on eggshells. That was not who they were. 

He set his coffee cup on the table, meticulously parallel with the rest of her stuff sitting on it. (He had always been stupidly neat, which she still found absolutely hilarious considering how the rest of the KT house was a total mess). She met his eyes over the rim of her own cup, waiting for what he was clearly there to tell her. 

“Why are you back with him, though? I’d have never pegged you to go back to someone who had done something like that to you.”

She licked her lips, tasting the drip of cocoa that clung to them. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s not.”

Of course, for Killian Jones it wouldn’t be complicated at all. Nothing was with him. Never had been. 

Sadly, it had always been complicated for Emma Swan. He should know better - he had had to fight with her about this since day one. 

“I love him,” she finally shared, not averting her gaze from his cerulean one. 

He just stared at her silently for a minute, gathering his thoughts. “That didn’t stop you from breaking up with me, and I never did what he has.”

She chuckled darkly, anger coursing through her veins and hitting her hard and fast. “No, you just made it abundantly clear that you were more in love with your fraternity than with me.” She inhaled sharply, and lowered her voice to barely a whisper, injecting as much pain as she had felt back at the time when she had realized Killian and she were not working back then. “You _hurt_ me.”

His lips thinned, his face contorting into a grimace, and even if she kind of enjoyed seeing him squirming after being called out on his wrongdoings, it also made her wince. Recalling that time wasn’t fun for any of them, that was for sure. There was a flash of pain passing his features, and after a pregnant pause, he said, “Not consciously.”

That was it. She was not about to fight with him about this anymore. What were they even talking anymore? Hadn’t he come there to bug her about her and Neal being back together? Why were they discussing her and Killian instead?

“Why do you always go back to you and me?”

He paused, as if he hadn’t even realized he, as always, had turned the conversation around to them. “That wasn’t my intention. I apologize. I just don’t understand why you’re torturing yourself over this.” He flashed her a concerned look, and Emma felt for the thousandth time annoyed and touched by him. “You don’t look happy.”

_Why do you even care about my happiness_ , she wanted to tell him. Instead, she threw her head back and let out a silent scream. “My boyfriend cheated on me with a girl who I have to practically _harass_ so she joins our sorority. _Of course_ I’m not happy.”

“Then why in hell are you trying to hold it together?,” he inquired, agitated and getting his chair closer to hers. She banged her fist on the table, their phones and drinks clattering with a sudden jerk.

“Because it’s what I’m supposed to do! What it’s supposed to be!”

“Since when did you stick to the rules?”

She tried to reign in her anger and frustration. This was what he did best - ruffle her feathers, find out what were her weak spots and tickle them until she exploded and somehow screamed what she really felt and thought. But then, she just looked sadly at him. “I am not you, Killian. I have goals, and a future that I actually _want_ to achieve, and hopes and dreams.”

If she had hurt him - which she guessed she had, but he masked it like a pro, - he didn’t let it show. “And those are filled with Neal Gold?”

“They were!”

“But not anymore?”

She banged the table for a second time, and this time her cocoa spilled from the lid of its cup and her phone fell to the ground. She payed them no mind. “You’re putting words in my mouth!”

He shook his head, pointing a finger accusingly at her. “I’m not, I’m trying to make you see how wrong this is for you.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. If this was about accusations, he would not be left behind, that was for sure. “You just want me to break up with him so you can get me back.”

She knew she had gone too far as soon as she said it, but at the same time she didn’t care. There was truth hidden in her statement, and they both knew it - _always_ had known it. Of course Killian would love for her to leave Neal high and dry, and not only as some sort sick of revenge after what happened in freshman year. But Emma was sure that, in the grand scheme of things, if she and Neal broke up, it’d be the fact that there was a glimmer of a possibility for him and Emma to date again what would matter the most to him, and not the chance that he’d be able to rub it on Neal’s face. 

Killian had been dumbstruck after her accusation, gaping at her - which didn’t happen often, mind you. He then stared at the ground, and with a graceful swing of his arm, he picked up her phone - she had forgotten about that, huh, - and placed it back on the table in front of her. “Listen here, Swan. If we were to ever be together again, it’d be because _you_ got _me_ back, not the other way around. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been with many a girl since you were done with me, yet none of them come close at what you meant to me.” His voice dropped, - as did her heart at his next words. “What you still mean to me.”

She closed her eyes, the frantic beating of her heart ringing in her ears. “Killian, please don’t do this.”

He knew better than trying to reach out and touch her - he _knew_ her, and it annoyed her _so much_ , - and chose to wait until she met his eyes to continue. “I’m not trying to pour my heart out here to mess with your head. Look, it’s just - when we were together, I like to think that we were a team, or if someone held some power, it was definitely you over me. You like being in control, and God knows you deserve to have it.” He sighed. “Itphysically _hurts_ me to see you right now, while everything around your relationship with Neal is falling apart.” 

She opened her mouth, ready to fight with him, - as always, - but found herself unable to. 

The fucking bastard was _right_.

She recalled moments of their relationship, - their ‘dalliance’, as he stupidly insisted on calling it just to annoy her, - and she realized how what he had said rang true. Back during their freshman year, she’d been scared shitless of starting anything remotely close to a relationship - and especially not one with a _fratboy_ , of all people. So she’d tried to push him away by claiming that that first kiss they had shared the night they met had been just that: a one time thing. He’d pursued her after that, but not until admitting that he was as unprepared for it all as she believed she was had she accepted to go on a date with him. He had insisted on being willing to try as long as it was with her and they could go as slow as she wished, and she hadn’t been able to deny him after that. She had been the one to set their first date. He had never pushed her when it came to sex, even if she had known he couldn’t wait to get to _that_ part, as any other college boy would - but their first time together had only happened once she realized - and told him, - that she wanted him and was ready to be with him, no matter what. He even left it to her how much PDA they were willing to showcase around, because somehow he knew she was not used to showing any kind of display like linking arms and kissing in public. 

(The first time she laced their fingers together she asked herself how could she have missed this feeling all that time, how she could go on her tiptoes and kiss his jaw, his cheek, his nose and brush the locks of hair that plastered to his sweaty forehead here and now.)

She was left speechless, staring ahead of her, as he just murmured a ‘just think about it, Swan’ before picking up his things and with an awkward wave, left. And that was how he left her: still sitting in her chair, with stains of her cocoa on the table and a complete mess of memories and decisions to make swimming in her mind.

 

 

(...)

 

 

Tamara Cassidy was stupidly pretty, Emma had to give her that. She also had flawless taste when it came to fashion, if her Prada bag and occasional Jimmy Choos were anything to judge her by. She had a penchant for wearing colorful scarves and silk pashminas that contrasted with her coffee-colored skin, and she had worn her hair down, silky and shiny in dark waves, everyday since she had arrived at CRU.

She smiled like she knew something you didn’t, and Emma hated admitting that at times she kind of intimidated her. (Especially after learning she had slept with her boyfriend, who was she kidding.)

She also appeared to be weirdly attracted to every guy Emma had been with, or so it seemed by the looks she kept throwing at Killian Jones when he walked down campus goofing around with his brothers.

She tried not to let the thought of the possibility of Tamara making a move on Killian drive her crazy. She didn’t need this right then.

Emma sighed despondently, and with a last look at herself - braid carefully plaited over her right shoulder, swan necklace perched on her neck, red shirt matching her purse, - she made her way over to the girl who had caused so much trouble in her life in one single evening. 

Not only had Regina made it clear that they needed Tamara in the house: she also had insisted on Emma being the one to convince her to join the sorority just so they’d ‘clear the air’, whatever that meant. The ZBZ president had claimed that the both of them needed to avoid uncomfortable situations and catfights if they were to live together in the house. Emma had assured her that it’d be awkward and all kinds of violent no matter what, but of course her pleas had been in vain. So there she was.

Emma observed the other girl as she left her building - because _of course_ the senator’s daughter wouldn’t stay as the rest of them, plebeians, at the dorms, - and with an inner prayer to not clock her in the head as soon as she stood before her, she approached her with purpose in her stride. Tamara raised her face from her phone, arching an perfectly penciled eyebrow at her. 

_Here we go._

She plastered a kind - and so fake it actually _hurt_ \- smile on her face. “Hey, Tamara.”

Recognition passed through the other girl’s features, and she pointed at her with a twin smile. “Oh. Emma, right? From the ZBZ house?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

To Emma’s surprise, Tamara looked almost... _pleased_ to see her. Though to be fairly honest, by knowing she was from Zeta Beta Zeta, it probably meant that every sorority on campus had already sent someone to ask her to join their respective houses. Tamara touched her arm briefly in greeting, and Emma fought the urge to slap her hand away or bite it off. “Hi! What are you doing here?”

Emma shrugged. “They pretty much sent me to coax you to join our sorority by accepting our bid instead of any of the rest the other houses must have offered you.”

Tamara’s smile widened, impressed. “Upfront. I like that. Not a lot of that in political circles, I assure you.”

“I’m not really into circling around,” Emma commented, shrugging once more. She proceeded to tell her what Regina had proposed as for her to accept their offer - the possibility of having her own room in the house, and any other thing that Tamara asked for. After a brief back and forth, Tamara agreed to become a ZBZ pledge with a content smirk, shaking Emma’s hand, and she sighed in relief. She had done it. She had convinced her as Regina had asked her to. 

...And now it was time for them to settle their ‘ _differences_ ’. 

“Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about something else.”

Tamara - her new sister for all purposes - frowned, confused. “Something else apart from becoming a sister?”

_Oh, if only you knew._ Fighting the urge to play with the end of her braid - a nervous habit that she had had since she learned how to successfully braid it, actually - she forced a not-exactly-too-stern smile. “Yeah. I heard about your night with Neal Gold.”

Tamara’s eyes widened, and she gripped Emma’s arm once again, and _squealed_. “Oh my God. It was _amazing_.”

Someone _shoot_ _her please_. “Please stop talking.” She cut her off with an hysterical laugh, unlacing Tamara’s fingers from her wrist. “See, Neal is my boyfriend.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and Emma couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t sure what she had expected the other girl to do once she broke the news to her - maybe blush or apologize, or _anything_ \- but instead, she just got an “Oh. Awkward,” of all things. 

Huh. 

Emma sighed lamely, not sure if she wanted to look at the girl in front of her. She sounded like she _pitied_ her of all things, and if she had hated something since she was a kid, it was pity. “Yeah. So if you _do_ join the sorority, I hope that, as a sister, I can advise you to consider learning if the guy you’re gonna sleep with is taken or not.”

The former pity or whatever that had been clouding Tamara’s features disappeared, and crossing her arms over her chest, she rose a challenging eyebrow in response. “Or as a sister, I hope _I_ can advise you to be more aware of what your boyfriend does apart from unaware pledges who shouldn’t have to ask wether they are taken or not.” Emma was so taken aback that she almost didn’t notice her change of tone - almost understanding of all things, - once she went on with her tirade. “I understand this must be violent for you, but it is _not_ my fault. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He pretty much threw himself at me.”

Emma threw a hand between them, as if she could actually put a shield that would protect her from the words thrown at her. “I don’t need to hear that, believe me.”

Tamara sighed, looking at her as she tapped the screen of her phone with her fingers. “Well, you should if that’ll help you realize that maybe the problem was in your relationship with him, instead of pining the blame on me.”

Emma swayed on her feet, feeling as if she had been slapped - and wasn’t that what had just happened? She’d just gotten bitch-slapped by Tamara Cassidy, and the truth in what she had said had stung so bad she could feel herself tearing up. Freaking _hell_. 

She was _right_. 

It was not Tamara’s fault - she had just been enjoying a night out her first week in campus, and an older fratboy had flirted with her, she was single and attractive and new - who said it was wrong of her to have a little fun? It was Neal who had been in a relationship and who hadn’t shared that tidbit of information with her. (Not that Emma knew if Tamara would have gone with it anyway, but it wouldn’t do anything good to her to go over the ‘what if’s). It was Neal who had cheated on her, and even if it had been with Tamara of all people, she wasn’t the one to blame. 

She also didn’t want to go into the whole self-blame issue - since she was a child, Emma had spent days wondering what she’d done wrong that made people eventually leave her. She and Neal may have looked the part of the perfect match and were considered practically royalty on campus - mostly due to Neal’s name, that was, - and maybe she had enjoyed that a little too much, having something good and safe and keeping it that way for once. 

Maybe she should have realized everything wasn’t as perfect as she had thought.

Maybe she should have known that nothing - and nobody - lasted forever to her.

 

(...)

 

Emma Swan and Neal Gold broke up days later, weeks before their year and a half anniversary. It wasn’t pretty; Neal accused her of ‘getting even’, she accused him for jumping to bed with the first pretty girl that showed interest in him. He accused her of still having feelings for Killian, she accused him of being paranoid. 

She called her jerk. He called her stuck-up. She called him coward. He called her cold bitch. 

He confessed he had slept with Tamara because he was afraid of his relationship with Emma going too serious. She screamed at him for throwing it all away instead of talking to her and trying to work it out. 

She confessed she had gone to Killian after she found out about him and Tamara and how Regina had convinced her to try to work things out even if she hadn’t been sure she could. He screamed at her for trying to use his name and wealth for her benefit. 

She cried. He cried. They hugged. They clang to each other on dear life.

He asked if they would still be friends even after it all. She didn’t promise him anything, and definitely still not right away.

She left the Omega Chi house feeling hollow and like a part of her was missing, but strangely enough, that only made her feel lighter. 

Free.

 

 

(...)

 

 

She had just left her last class of the day when she bumped into someone outside of the building. A pair of strong arms went out to steady her, and she shivered unconsciously. She would have known his touch anywhere, and that fact scared her shitless. 

Killian’s lips curled into a small smile. “Hey”

She smiled back at him, suddenly feeling embarrassed of all things. “Hi.”

“How are you?” he asked, and she actually thought about how to respond. 

She hadn’t been okay after her break up, - she had been all but okay. She had mourned her relationship. She had missed Neal - still missed being with him, actually. But she had had her friends with her, and they had kept her fairly entertained and free of any drama concerning boys and relationships. 

And she hated to admit that, as much as she missed being with Neal, she was happy of being single again. Or at least, not with him. Tamara had been right: something had shifted between them, and if Neal had called it them ‘getting too serious’ or whatever, Emma didn’t care as long as she admitted that it wasn’t going well. Who knew, sometimes people fell out of love and just stayed together because they were comfortable.

And Emma had craved easy, comfortable and happy. Thus, she may have pretended as if she didn’t see that something was not okay. 

She wasn’t about to share such a dissertation on her feelings with Killian Jones of all people, though, so instead she settled for a simple “Good. All good.”

“You look good,” he said, and to her amusement, he flustered, stammering all over the place as he corrected himself. “I mean, it is pretty much impossible for you not to look good, but I meant that, you know, you look better.” 

She bit on her lip trying to hide a smile, because a flustered Killian Jones was definitely _not_ something one witnessed everyday. “Thank you.”

They stayed silent for a while, inspecting the other and avoiding each other gazes’ as soon as they caught the other taking a peek. Finally, Killian cleared his throat, scratching the back of his ear nervously. “Ah - I heard about you and Neal.”

She sighed, gripping the strap of her backpack with all her might. It had been a couple of weeks already, but it still hurt to think about it. She was definitely doing better - she only cried about it once every while, _holler_! - yet she would be lying if she said she was alright. Or ready to commit to anything with any specimen of the male species - or female, as Aurora and Mulan had told her with a grin, and she had just slapped them in the arm jokingly but hadn’t denied it. “Who hasn’t, huh.”

Killian smiled knowingly, waving his hand as if to encompass the campus around them and the people in it. “Gossip Girl. Scary, right?”

Emma grinned. “I know!”

She was surprised by how fast he made her laugh, even when they had just been talking about something that had had her horribly depressed for the time being. Well, she wasn’t _that_ surprised, actually - it was one of the things that had first attracted her to him when they met. He had made her laugh and feel comfortable in a place where she had felt like a fish out of water just with his stupid jokes and attempts to coax a smile from her. 

Before she could say something else, someone showed up at her side, offering a styrofoam cup. 

“Emma? Your cocoa.”

Killian rose an eyebrow at the unexpected addition to their petit comité, but Emma just took the drink, offering a smile at the dark-skinned girl. “Thank you, pledge.”

Tamara smiled back, staring subtly at Killian, who still studied their interaction with a frown. “I’ll see you back at the house?”

Emma nodded, and waved at her with her cup. “Definitely. See ya.”

He stared open-mouthed as Tamara left with a final wave and smile, her own coffee in her hands and Loubotins clicking behind her. He turned to Emma, still gaping at her. “Hold on a second - did a senator’s daughter just _bring you coffee_?”

Emma faked a gasp, showing him her drink. “How _dare_ you - it’s _cocoa_.”

He made a face at her. “I’m serious. Isn’t she the one that...,” he motioned with his hand, and she found it almost cute that he didn’t want to put it into words just to not hurt her feelings. (Like they hadn’t been wounded already.)

“...Neal slept with? Yeah, she’s the one,” she offered, and with a final look at Tamara’s retreating back, she leaned against the pillar closer to her. He made a noise under his breath. 

“You were being nice to her.”

She shrugged. “She’s my little sis.”

It was turning truly entertaining to witness Killian Jones gape at her as if she had somehow sprouted wings or something, she had to admit. His eyes widened in surprise, and he laughed. “No way. Is this some kind of ploy of yours to to gain points in the long run for ZBZ presidency?”

She guessed she deserved that. Instead, she recalled the ceremony at the ZBZ house where she had asked Regina to assign Tamara as her little sister. Emma was nothing if not persistent, and she knew Tamara and she had a long way down to become friends or something close to it, but she was willing to give it a try. She had admired the other girl’s upfront demeanor and open honesty when she had faced her, and she reckoned that having Tamara Cassidy on her side would be better than as an open enemy. Surprisingly, the pledge had been pretty understanding after she broke up with Neal, and chose to stay away from her path - even after they had agreed on her not being to blame for what happened. Emma appreciated people who were kind to her and went out of their way to do so, and she intended on paying with the same coin. 

It wasn’t friendship yet, but it was on its way, or so she wanted to believe. 

“A month ago I’d have probably said yes. Even if she’s not my favorite person... she’s not to blame. And she can be quite cool if she wants to.” She waved a hand, trying to appear nonchalant. “ _And_ her father has a private jet.” 

She noticed him staring at her, and even if it wasn’t something new - she could feel his eyes on her pretty much whenever they were in the same room, - it was the _way_ he was staring at her. Like she was the freaking sun or something. 

“What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. He just shook his head, smiling even wider at her.

“You’re bloody brilliant.” 

She could feel herself blush to the roots of her hair. Even after all this time, the freaking idiot still managed to make her go red, for Christ’s sake. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said - both because it was true, and because she knew he liked to put himself down too much. He raised his head to stare marveled at her, and quickly quirked an eyebrow, grinning mischievously. 

“Careful, Swan, you’re looking a bit enamored there.”

She ignored him, biting her lip and the ‘you wish’ she most definitely wanted to shoot back. “I wanted to thank you.”

A frown marred his forehead, and she fought the urge to smooth it away with her fingers. “For what?”

She picked at the hem of her shirt, embarrassed to see his expression as she shared her gratitude. “For knocking some sense into me. It clearly wasn’t working with Neal if he felt the need to bed another girl. And it wasn’t gonna get fixed after this. Not with me, anyway.” 

She peeked at him under his lashes, and that same amazement that had been before as she looked at her was back. He quickly composed himself, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if to clear it, and Emma considered it safe to stare back at him. “Did someone in particular cross your mind when you finally came to realize all of this?”

Cocking her head to the side, she considered his question for a moment. “Not really. It was mostly Tamara.”

He made a satisfied sound under his breath. “ _Hot_.”

...and _there_ he was.

She rolled her eyes, punching him in the arm and feeling extraordinarily proud as he winced and rubbed at the spot she had hit him in. “You’re an idiot.”

Brushing his sleeve of invisible lint, he stood pensively for a moment before he seemed to remember something. “Did you know this idiot is your little brother’s big brother?”

“Oh no,” she whined.

He grinned widely at her, punching a fist in the air in victory. “Oh yes. Now I can teach him what being a KT is all about. How to win a woman’s heart, and chug shots like men do.”

“Everything he needs to know in life, I’m sure,” she declared sarcastically. Really, her brother was in so much trouble. _She_ was in so much trouble. 

He seemed even more chipper now, clapping his hands together in excitement. “Don’t worry, I’ll give him the talk for you,” he told her with a glint in his eye, and she tried to slap his arm again but he jumped out of her reach. “I can teach him how to fight against evil and Neal Gold...”

“Jones...”

He pouted, but at her unwavering glare, he sighed defeatedly. “Fine, just Omega Chis in general.” He put an arm over her shoulders, bringing her close to him, and if she sniffed him just to make sure she still remembered the scent of his shampoo and spice that seemed to cling to his clothes, she’d never admit it even under the threat of torture. “Aw, big sis and big bro. We’ll make such a good team! We always have worked well together, haven’t we?”

(And if she noticed him quietly sniffing her hair, she didn’t mention it either).

She smiled softly, because well, it _was_ true. They had had fun together. They had worked together - it had been them together, always together, against the world. And it had worked until it hadn’t, but for the time being, it had been perfect. “Yeah, I guess so,” she eventually admitted, and looked up at him without realizing that they were standing pretty close together, their faces only inches apart. 

She jumped away from with with a start, and he mimicked, rearranging his hair and scratching his neck while she checked her phone was still in the back pocket of her bag as an excuse not to look at him. They finally found themselves with nothing left to do but stare at each other, and with a final nod of acknowledgement, Killian gave her a little bow.

“I’ll see you around, Swan.”

She smiled, afraid that if she let herself move she’d do something stupid. Like touching his hair, or poking him in the ribs, or taking his hand. Something that she was not ready for and she wasn’t really sure she needed right then. “See you, Jones.” 

With a last grin, he turned around and left, and Emma was left again with the ghost of his presence and his scent, but specially the words unsaid between them. 

She sighed to herself. That was who they were at the end of the day: Killian Jones and Emma Swan, eternally in an impasse.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Emma stormed inside the KT house like a hurricane, the bang of the door almost unheard against the cacophony of cheers, music and raucous crowd dispersed around the place. She gingerly clutched the hem of her gown in her hands, swearing under her breath. Of course she had found out when she was in the middle of a toga party, of course. She sidestepped horny couples who appeared to be about to sneak into any room upstairs and puddles on the wooden floors that looked suspiciously like spilt beer, and she peeked inside the living room, anxiously searching for a mop of brown hair and praying not to be too late when she didn't find any sign of him. She quickly made her way towards the stairs when she suddenly ran into a very loud and entertained Killian Jones, surrounded by a fair number of swooning bimbos. As soon as he saw her, though, he sprang to his feet, brushing off the collar of his shirt and trying to appear casual.

"Gretel? Are you _serious_?" she screamed, and he had the decency to look apologetic.

"Swan! What are you doing here?"

She pointed a threatening finger at him - even though it wasn't as dignified as it should have been when the tip of her _chiton_ got in the way. "Don't give me the innocent act. Where is Henry?"

"I don't think your brother would appreciate you banging in there," he said as he followed behind her when she trudged up the stairs towards his room. He stopped, and cocked his head to the side in wonder at his own words. "That's some _sick_ game of words."

She slapped his arm, glaring at him. "I don't care, I don't want his first time to end with him sporting at least one ETS."

"It is not _that_ bad."

"She has slept through this _entire_ campus, Killian."

"She is a respectful lady, I'll have you know," he rattled, offended.

Emma gritted her teeth, barely suppressing the urge to recount the notches she knew for sure that Gretel had under her belt. Not that she normally minded - she had shared a class with her the previous year, and she was nice enough, but yeah. Not who she would have picked for Henry's first time. "I don't care about her - I care about my brother and how you've manipulated him into believing he has to get rid of his virginity in order to follow some unspoken rule between guys."

At that, Killian bristled, and his arms waved around him dramatically as he tried to defend himself. "I did _not_ convince him to do it. He was the one asking for my help!"

"And why did you think arranging a bed date with _Gretel_ would be a good idea at all?," she inquired, incensed. She wouldn't know who was redder between the two of them as they screamed at each other. In any other situation, she would have cracked up at the sight the two of them made, but not this one.

"He wants to get it over with!" Killian yelled back, and she was so furious she could almost feel herself pouring steam.

"And you want him to look back at that first time and regret it?" She put up a hand in the air tiredly, and something in her shifted, her next words dropping, low and worried. "Don't you remember our first time together?"

They stared at each other, and she _knew_ he was thinking of that night. In that very same house, up those very stairs, a lonely candle that he had stubbornly insisted on lighting to 'set the mood right' until its cinnamon scent almost asphyxiated them and they had to blow it off. The way his lips had mapped every inch of her body with extreme reverence, his fingers shaking and cautious. Her heart had beaten up so fast she had almost fainted, and apparently so had he, once they were done ad they had lain there sweaty, spent and tangled together, quietly joking about it lasting longer the next time.

How special he had made her feel just by his tender and languid kisses. Silence engulfed them, until he whispered raggedly, "Of course I do."

She made a strange noise in the back of her throat, trying to get the words out. _Focus_ , Emma. "It may have been awkward and terribly orthopedic and _terrifying_ \- but we were in love. It was special. I want _that_ for Henry, not some girl who will get him off but not give a crap about what he feels about it."

He held her gaze for a moment, and finally averted it, examining his door with a frown. He let out a sigh, shoulder slumping as he dropped his head.

"I'm sorry."

She nodded, silently accepting his apology, and quickly clapped her hands together, all business. "You'd better be. Now please get my brother out of there before he makes a great mistake."

He gave her a look, and with a last sigh, he knocked on the door. They waited in silence, trying to pick up any sound coming from inside, but the noise from the party downstairs made it impossible. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, Killian opened the door, and with a last nod at her, they both took a look inside.

"Oh, God," she groaned, and immediately ran back to the safety of the corridor, putting a hand over her eyes as if it would help burning the image from her brain. She heard Jefferson's voice coming from inside the still open door, accompanied by a quiet giggle. 

"Next time you could knock, you know."

Killian stood pretty nonplussed in her opinion, and scratched his chin, confused. "Where is Henry?"

"He left," Jefferson answered, and with a last muffled request for Killian to give him an hour more - 'yeah, right' she heard Killian retort back before closing the door behind him - he joined her, leaning against the wall at her side. She closed her eyes, relief sweeping over her in waves.

"It's your lucky day, Swan. You didn't cockblock your little brother," he finally commented in an amused tone, and she kicked him in the shin with her sandal, ignoring his laugh and her unwilling smile for that matter.

"Piss off."

* * *

 

The semester went on, and Emma found herself as always carrying her duties as sister and pledge educator, putting up with teachers who forgot that their students had a life outside their class by demanding outrageous amounts of work, living young adult life drama, giving advice to her brother's preoccupied by his first encounters with the opposite sex mind, and with friends intent on her not wallowing in self-pity after her breakup.

She hadn't intended such a thing either; in fact, after some time had passed, she felt strangely free. Sure, she missed having a boyfriend - someone to cuddle with, to whine to, to go to the movies with, to call in the middle of the night. But at the same time, being with 'the' Neal Gold came with such high expectations, that she was more than happy to step aside from all of it. 

It also meant staying away from Neal: she needed a break from him, and to find in herself the space and will to forgive him. Not only for cheating on her, but for trying to hide it behind her back and blackmail Henry by doing so. The poor guy should have known better, though, there was nobody more loyal to her than her little brother.

Neal kept mostly to himself, having his own house and life to deal with, and Emma preferred it that way. Instead, she found her days were filled with Tamara's presence. Apart from some stunts here and there where her reputation as bratty senator's daughter extraordinaire showed, the girl had become a surprising fit in the puzzle that was her life. It had been hard at first, and sometimes Emma found herself observing her little sis from the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what might have been about her that made Neal throw away what they had had for a night with her. But somehow, above the glimpses of resentment that sometimes reared its ugly face, she got along with the dark-skinned girl.

Emma had also taken to spending time here and there with Killian and his brothers - very seldom, mind you, but it was still a change in the status quo that had been her life until then.

(She insisted on Henry being the key reason as to why her path and the KTs kept crossing whenever someone asked her about it.)

They bumped into each other at The Emerald City, or at parties thrown in both of their houses, and maybe at the campus grounds at times. They talked, and Emma was pleasantly surprised to realize that he hadn't changed at all, as Neal had said not that long ago. He maybe hadn't changed, but no matter what, he always managed to get her to smile, and give her really good advice. It wasn't like he was her first choice when she needed some, mind you - she had friends for that, thank you, - but whenever she had been troubled about something and they had seen each other, he had coaxed her into telling him, ignoring her protests. ("Open book, Swan - now spill.")

Such as it happened one afternoon she bumped into him at the cafeteria she favored on campus. As soon as they had exchanged pleasantries and she had rolled her eyes at least four times since he greeted her, he noticed her 'moping face', as he called it, and finally convinced her to sit with him for a minute. She should have known it was a trap for him to try to get her to talk, but she was so conflicted that she barely cared at that point. 

(Or maybe she did want to talk to him about it.)

He looked at her worriedly. "What is it? I'm an excellent listener, I'll have you know."

She buried her nose further in her scarf, inhaling softly the scent of her favorite perfume that clang to it. "It's just... Ruby."

Killian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Is she okay?"

She waved a hand offhandedly. "Yeah. I mean, no. I don't know. She says she is but then I asked her about Victor and she got all defensive, so I called her out on it and now she's mad at me."

She winced thinking about their argument. Ruby and she never fought - except when they both wanted to wear the same shirt or dress and they had to play rock, paper, scissors to solve their problem, - and she felt completely out of her loop. She just didn't know how to deal with her closest friend's glares and giving her the silent treatment since that day. 

Killian tapped his finger on the armrest of the futon he had sat on. "What did you tell her?"

"That she could do better."

Killian's expression hardened, and she could almost taste the self-deprecation and venom in his voice as he remarked, "Why? Because he's a KT?"

"It's _not_ that."

She should have known better when she accepted telling him what the deal was. She should have guessed it would hit too close to home, especially when it came to the two of them.

He exhaled loudly, and lounged tiredly on his seat. "You may not know a lot of him, but _I_ do. And even if all you see is the flirt that wouldn't stop hitting on you and your friends on your first weekend on campus, I can assure you he's far more than that."

She felt the need to defend herself, bristling at his tone. "I never said he wasn't."

"Then why would you tell her that?"

She thought back about what she had said to Ruby that night in their shared room, and she almost knocked out her chocolate when she waved her hands in the air in frustration. "Because she... she's my best friend! I want what's best for her!"

He sat like a statue, scrutinizing her. He leaned forward in anticipation. "And don't you want someone who loves her - and she loves back - for her?"

She opened her mouth ready to lash out at him - because Ruby was _bright_ , and had plans, and wanted to succeed in life, and was full of vibrant energy and had the ability of making you happy just by being by her side, and she needed someone that would appreciate and know how to handle all of that, - but no words came. Instead, she thought back to the few times shehad seen Victor and Ruby together - how she genuinely laughed around him, or how pleased she looked when he complimented her on whatever it is she had done, from beating him at beer pong to dancing to some pop song on the radio. There weren't _that_ many moments she could recall, mind you, because they'd been careful enough not to make it look like they bumped into each other that much in public, preferring to have secret rendez-vous and fun secret sex together, probably in order to avoid what the rest of them would say if they found out they were serious.

 _Probably to avoid what had happened now_ , she chastised herself. She bit her lip, feeling like the biggest jerk on planet Earth.

"Did you know he plans on becoming a doctor?" She looked up, startled, having forgotten that she was sitting with Killian. She furrowed her brow, suddenly lost - Victor? A doctor? Before she could grip this sudden new information, Killian added, "And that since he first kissedRuby Lucas he hasn't been with anyone else, because he is completely whipped?"

She dropped her gaze to the cocoa, now cold, sitting in front of her. "No."

"Appearances aren't all, Swan," he pointed out. His tone was slightly less bitter, and Emma stole a glance at him from under her lashes. He was looking out of the window, gaze faraway and lost. "I recall one Ruby Lucas storming down on the KT house during freshman year and telling me I'd never be good enough for you, but despite it all she'd give me a chance - because you loved me. I'd say you owe her the same courtesy."

She thought her heart had stopped for a moment. She knew all the blood had left her face, because she could feel the numbness of her lips as she forced the words out. "She did that?"

He looked up at her and laughed, his eyes slanting half-shut with it. "Almost made me crow in fear."

In an instant she had jumped from her seat, picking up her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder, frazzled with nerves and need to see her friend and beg her for forgiveness. "I gotta go."

He tipped her head in her direction, a glint in his eye as he appraised her. "You really do. Good luck, Swan."

 

Half an hour later, Emma knocked on her door tentatively. When she didn't get an answer, she set it slightly ajar and peeked inside, noticing Ruby sitting on her own bed with her headphones over her dark head.

"Hi," she tried lamely, but got no response. Typical.

She closed the door behind her and carefully took a seat on her own bed, facing her friend. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." 

Ruby looked stunned, headphones all but forgotten as she threw them off her curls and flung them on her pillow. "You are?"

Emma bit her lip, wringing her hands together. "Yeah. What I said earlier - it wasn't my place. You're a big girl and you know better. I was only trying to look out for you but I was a jerk instead."

She counted in her head, beside herself with worry over her friend not accepting her apology or giving her hell for what a bitch she had been to her, but to her relief it never came.

"I get it, you were trying to protect me."

Killian's earlier words came back to her in a rush, and she shook her head, trying to clear it.

"I just don't think there is anybody out there good enough for you," Emma confessed bluntly, and to her surprise Ruby chortled, amused. 

"Except you."

They shared a look, and Emma rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. "Except me. Duh."

Before she could say anything else, Ruby had jumped over her on the bed, her arms embracing her so tightly she could swear on a stack of Bibles she had died for a moment there. Breathless as she was, she almost couldn't laugh along with her friend, who happily rocked them back and forth as if the past days where they hadn't been on speaking terms had been as hard for her as it had been for Emma. They finally disentangled themselves enough to lay side by side on her tiny bed, clapping her right hand with Ruby's left hand - an habit they had acquired since their first year as roommates in the dorms whenever they had 'girl talks' together - and to her amusement Ruby sighed. "Why aren't you a guy and we can be perfect together?"

"Shh, Mulan and Aurora will hear about this and cry."

They laughed, because it was so true, and after a minute or so, Emma turned to face her. "So, you and Victor are 'it' then?"

 "I guess," Ruby said, blushing slightly. Emma had to clamp down the urge to pinch her cheek adorably for that - it was not every day that you got to see Ruby Lucas all flushed and embarrassed. Instead, she patted her on the arm, knowing that what she needed in that moment was her support.

"You'll work it out," she promised, And Ruby looked at her, doubt and fear crossing over her face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ruby appeared to struggle with herself for a moment, but finally asked. "But look at you and Killian."

And Emma knew what she meant. Look at Emma and Killian - how much they had loved each other, but how it hadn't worked out, him being totally enamored with the other woman that was his house, his brothers and his fun.

She got why Ruby was worried, but as David had once told her once, shouldn't they look for the good moments in the midst of the bad ones? There was no need for her to be so preoccupied with how it could all go to hell instead of focusing on how awesome it could potentially become. 

She smiled reassuringly at her. "You two are not us, and in any case, you can learn from our mistakes."

"You're full of wisdom, Emma Swan," Ruby commented, sighing contentedly as she burrowed closer to her, giggling when one of her curls tickled her on the neck. Emma snorted a laugh, too.

"I know right?"

They stayed silent for a moment, the forgotten music that came from Ruby's headphones on the other bed still playing as their breathing calmed. It was peaceful. It was nice.

It was home.

 "So does that mean you'll go with me to the KT house as my chaperone?"

Emma snorted louder. "Keep dreaming."

* * *

 

"So, how's everything going?" Emma threw an arm about Henry's shoulders, affectionately. He just quirked a quizzical brow at her.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking?"

"Not at all. You're the new one here. You're like the guest, and I'm lamely trying to play the role of the gracious host," she said, squeezing vigorously and ignoring the poorly disguised concern Henry displayed whenever he was around her, ready to pick up the pieces in case she suddenly broke down over the Neal debacle again.

Not happening, little bro.

Still disbelieving, he huffed a laugh under his breath. "Yeah, right."

She let go of him with a sigh and went to sit down on the bed in front of his, taking in the football poster over the headboard contrasting to Henry's periodical table of chemical elements on his wall. Visiting his room in the dorms was always entertaining alright. "Seriously, though. Is everything okay?" She frowned, suddenly realizing that she had been so wrapped up with her own drama that she had forgotten to inquire about Henry's first months in his own house. "Are they being hard on you?"

He waved a hand in her direction. "Nah."

When he didn't elaborate, alarm bells rang in her head, and she sat up straighter. "Henry..."

He carefully avoided her eyes, fiddling with a loose thread of his pillow. She was about to go over his bed and shake whatever it was off him even if she had to, he flushed red and vaguely stammered, "...There might be something."

She jumped to her feet, agitated. "I am going to _kill_ them. Don't worry, I'll talk to Jones."

She was going to do more than talk to him. She was going to punch him in that smirking face of his, that was for sure. She couldn't believe she had agreed on letting him be his big brother - not that she'd had any say in the matter, but she thought they'd silently agreed on keeping an eye on Henry, not abusing him as a pledge.

Henry seemed to pick up her thoughts at once, and quickly rushed to explain himself. "No, no, Em - it's not that. The pledging is fine. Hard, but fine."

She frowned. "Okay. So what is it then?"

He shook his head, teeth clenched in his lower lip. When he finally released it, a deep red mark showed where he had bitten it. "There is... a girl," he finally confessed, blushing even deeper, and Emma felt like passing out. 

"OH MY GOD." 

He scowled at her, even though the blush didn't leave his cheeks. "Shut up!" "How can I? You just told me there is _a girl_!"

He looked incredibly offended at that. "You almost barged into me having sex." She just stared at him, quirking an eyebrow and giving him a knowing look, and he groaned. "Okay, maybe _not_ , but..."

She put her hands over her ears, chanting at the top of her lungs. "Lalala, please tell me about this girl and stop reminding me about that night..."

Henry went towards her and slapped her hands away, making sure to let her know that he would change the conversation topic. At her encouraging nod, his mouth curled into a small grin. "She is in my Art History class. She's beautiful. She has the prettiest smile - which is good because she's always smiling. Her name's Grace."

Emma, who had been smiling bigger and bigger the more she heard and noticed the way her brother talked about this girl, felt her face freeze once she recognized the name.

"Jeff's little sister?"

Henry winced, avoiding eye contact. "Right."

"Oh God, he's gonna kill you," she announced empathically, letting herself fall over Henry's roommate's bed. She heard him huff.

"You should be encouraging me!"

"I am! I am encouraging you to _stay alive_!"

He stayed silent for a minute, in which she felt under the pillow and found the book that the boy living there must have been reading - one of the Game of Thrones' saga, if she guessed correctly. Huh. "Is it that horrible?" Henry finally inquired tentatively, and Emma snorted against her will, thinking that oh, he had no idea.

"Apparently he almost kidnapped a guy who hit on her once, but I'm not sure if it's only a rumor. Jeff can be... pretty intense at times."

And by intense she meant _mad_.

Henry mimicked her, laying on his own bed with a defeated sigh. "I'm dead meat."

"You _so_ are." 

When she realized he was not going to say anything else, she peered at his side of the room, and felt a pang of pity resonate through her at the frown that pulled at his lips. He looked so _sad_.

"Hey, there _are_ other girls out there, you know?" she said, trying to add some cheer into her voice and biting her lip worriedly. He wiggled on the bed, as he had always done when he was insecure about something.

"I guess..."

She fought hard an eye-roll. Her poor brother wouldn't win a poker game in his life, no matter how hard he tried. Not that he was trying that much to hide the disappointment he felt, mind you. 

"But?"

He stared dreamily at the ceiling. She followed his gaze, thinking that maybe there was something up there, but no. Just a couple of damp stains.

"But they're not her. She's special."

She flipped over to lay on her belly, supporting her chin on her crossed arms as she looked over at him. "How?"

"I don't know! She just is. She makes me feel less alone, like I belong. She laughs at my nerd jokes. She listens to me and is honestly interested in what I have to say. She makes me laugh."

Emma had heard all of this with a mix of tenderness, amusement and longing. She wouldn't admit to Henry how that was probably how everybody with a big, fat crush felt, but it was oddly endearing to hear him daydream about this Grace. "You really like her."

She heard him sigh, and witnessed how he picked up his own pillow to hide his face under it. "I think I love her, but I can't know that. It's too soon, right?"

She let out a self-deprecating laugh, a perfect combination of bitter and sad. "You shouldn't be taking love advice from me, of all people. Maybe you should talk to Mary Margaret - she and David are the kind of true love at first sight disgustingly perfect fairytale couple."

(Henry didn't need to know that the ZBZ sisters had once bestowed that title to those two the year before. Or how Mary Margaret had his contact on her phone labelled as 'Charming'.) (They were so disgustingly perfect it was actually cavities-inducing).

"Hey, you _have_ been in love, haven't you? I don't think you'd have stayed as long as you did with Neal if you hadn't been."

She gulped, something clogging at her throat as she tried to stay calm before answering him. She definitely didn't want the conversation to steer in that direction. They had talked enough about her bruised heart after Neal. Finally, she managed to croak, "Of course I was, but I'd rather not talk about him."

"What about Killian?"

She startled, and hit the back of her head with the headboard. "What?"

He gave her a look, half amused and half annoyed. "Come on, it's not like it's a secret - I found out weeks ago."

How the hell had he - wait. Gossip Girl campus, house full of fratboys. Yeah, you needn't be a genius to figure that one out, she guessed.

She just wondered to herself why Killian hadn't mentioned anything to her, at the very least. (They were friends. Right?)

(Wait. Were they?)

She flipped the pages of the book she had found earlier, trying to look mildly interested in the cover. "I just thought it would make things weird, you know?"

Henry scrunched up his nose in confusion - something he had done since she first met him and still found incredibly adorable, damn him. "Why? I get along with him. You two are friends. It isn't weird at all, right?"

She swallowed, her earlier thought flying back to smack her in the face. "Right. Friends."

He studied her a moment, as he sat straighter on the edge of his bed, then asked impatiently.

"So?"

She frowned. "So what?"

He made a noise, waving his hand in her direction. "How did you know you were in love with him?"

Well, this was bound to be an interesting conversation, after all, she thought grimly to herself.

"We... we did everything kind of backwards. We hooked up and we dated later." She tried to fight a soft smile, recalling that first kiss they shared and his insistence on her agreeing to go on a date with her.

What an idiot. 

"My question still stands."

She scowled at him, but at his insisting look, she sighed, relenting. "Fine." She thought about it, mulling in her head what could have possibly been the moment where she had realized that - that was it. There wasn't any under-the-stars or dramatic declarations in the rain pivotal moment in their relationship, though: they had been just a boy and a girl. A boy who had showed her that she could be loved, after all, and that she needn't be afraid to let it in.

"Maybe one day when he looked at me. He made me laugh, and he was cute and funny and a total dork. And a flirt. And insufferable. But I don't know, I was showing him something and he just... the way he looked at me. It was different from anything I'd ever felt before." She choked out a laugh. "I know it sounds cliché and cheesy but that's the way I remember it."

She hadn't realized that her voice had turned breathless, and felt herself flushing in embarrassment when she realized that Henry was staring at her with a face that she couldn't read. "Sounds perfect to me," he finally said, smiling encouragingly at her.

She gave him a grateful smile, a creeping feeling of nostalgia and something that reeked of bitterness and longing wrapping around her. Looking at Henry now, noticing the way his eyes lit up and his grin widened whenever he mentioned this girl, her mind went back to those first months there, when she had first realized what it was like, to open yourself, to reveal yourself, to let someone in and share with them that hidden place inside of you the secrets you'd never dared to speak of, the dreams you'd hidden in a drawer but couldn't help but take out and stare at in the darkness. Killian had been that for her, the first one to ever manage to do so, in fact, and even if it hadn't been the happily ever after one would have hoped for, she was still grateful to him for giving her that.

"I want to meet this Grace girl," she announced resolutely, and Henry groaned.

"Emma..."

She jumped from the bed to sit beside him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. "And I'll talk to Jeff. Don't worry. And from what I hear, she sounds half enamored with you already."

He looked like he disagreed with her on the not worrying about it part - which he should, to be fairly honest, because this would be tough alright, - but at last a smile curled his mouth, eyes glinting with something akin to hope. "You think so?"

She laughed, falling on her back on his bed and dragging him with her, hoping in a faraway corner of his mind that his roommate wouldn't choose that exact moment to come back or he'd get the wrong idea. "Are you kidding? Only mom, dad and I laugh at your nerd jokes, and that's because we love you."

 

* * *

 

The Emerald City was at its best when Emma joined Ruby at their table, grinning from ear to ear when she noticed she had already ordered and her drink waited for her. She eagerly took a sip, almost moaning in delight, until someone slipped behind her, positioning himself between her and her friend.

"Hi ladies."

She met Killian's eyes, who smiled at them with a knowing look. Ruby cheerfully smiled back, waving her glass for him to clink with hers. "Good evening, captain."

Emma snorted into hers, foam flying to her upper lip in response. She had almost forgotten Killian's pledge nickname from freshman year. He had insisted on them using it on far more many occasions she dared to recall.

(He had also pleaded on her using it in bed. She had given in just a handful of times, and just because she had been terribly intoxicated and had found it extremely funny at the moment.)

"Hey babe," Victor had sidled up to them, his arm snaking around Ruby's waist and wasting no time in capturing her lips with his. Ruby didn't seem to mind at all, her hands going to her boyfriend's hair and kissing him back as eagerly as he was.

Ugh. Disgusting couples were definitely a bummer in her book, that was for sure.

She fingered the edge of her table with interest, until Killian's hot breath on her ear made her almost stumble from her stool. "Everything okay, then?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion, until she saw him motioning with his head in Ruby's direction, who had somehow miraculously survived her three minutes without breathing kissing experience with Victor and now seemed completely entranced as she told him something. She smiled despite herself, looking back at him. "Crisis solved."

He stared proudly at her. "I knew you'd do it, Swan."

"Thank you," she beamed back, almost flushing at the compliment. She cleared her throat, wheeling back on the stool so she was facing him. "So, I have to talk to you about something." 

"Really now? Seeking my sage advice?"

"It's about Henry, actually."

"What's the matter?"

She drew a deep breath before answering. "He's in love."

"Ugh. Lad went all in, didn't he?" he said with a cynical glance. His face screamed a wary distaste, but she knew better - Jones was a romantic. He probably was bursting with pride at this news of his protege's new developments in the love department. "Worst of sins, that one."

She laughed, disregarding his momentary interruption."It gets worse." "Worse?"

She nodded gravelly, and motioned for him to inch closer so she could whisper in his ear. "The girl in question is Jeff's sister."

He pulled back from her so fast, it almost gave her whiplash. " _Gracie_?"

She nodded, biting her lip - worriedly or trying to hide a grin at his reaction, she wasn't sure of. "Yup."

"Oh Lord." His face turned calculating and focused, as if devising one of the pranks he was so fond of whenever he decided it was time to go to war against any of the other houses in campus. "Is it a fleeting fancy or is it... you know... the L world?"

She shook her head. Tough shit, buddy. "Lesbians."

( _Lesbians_ had been his code word for 'love' since she had met him, and it had stuck with her for these past three years.) (Idiot.)

"We need to do something," she pleaded, and hoped for him to agree because she wasn't sure she would be able to convince Jeff not to kill her little brother on sight as soon as he find out that he wanted to court Grace.

(If Jones had any say in the matter, she'd bet anything he'd use the term 'woo' instead just to make it look fancy - or potentially distract Jeff.)

"Leave it to me," he assured her with a nod, and she glared at his obvious attempt at leaving her out of this.

"No way. We have to do it together," she said, eyes intent on hers. It seemed to catch him off guard, the offer of doing something side by side - and why wouldn't it? It wasn't like they had had to do a lot as a team, as a couple, as a two-pack deal since they had split up.

She had to admit that she was nervous at the prospect - and strangely excited. That, too. If his grin was anything to guide her by, she'd say he was, too.

"Okay."

She grinned back. "Good."

 

* * *

 

She sat there, openly gaping at David as he, as calmly as he possibly could, explained to her what had happened.

"They _what_?"

One moment she was sitting in the ZBZ living room talking to him, the next she was out of the door, not bothering to take her beanie or scarf to brave the cold as she practically sprinted towards the Omega Chi house. She realized people were staring, especially taking into account how her friend followed behind, trying to placate her anger with no success at all.

As if he could get her to calm down after finding out his stupid house had pranked her brother.

Not only that, but had smuggled liquor inside his backpack when he wasn't looking and had tipped off campus security about it.

During _sober week._

David had shown up at her house, and once she followed the pledge who knocked on her door to tell her there was a friend to see her, she had seen the worried look on his face and had known there was something wrong, but by no means had she expected _that_.

Pranks between houses were common enough, and she had seen plenty of them since she had rushed. Some of them she found funny, others made her cringe and pity those who suffered through them.

This one? She saw _red_ as soon as David had told her and lamely promised her that he had had nothing to do with it.

It wasn't just that it had been Henry the one who had taken the fall for it, but the notion that they could have gotten him in real trouble - even _expelled_ \- was making her madder by the second.

She barged into the house, ignoring the startled pledges who were gathered by the door, and made her way to the couch were actives lounged and watched the game on the TV. She recognized Neal, Robin and some of their friends around, and directed all of her fury at them. "What the fuck is your problem?"

They nearly jumped out of their skin, and stared at her with identical looks of surprise. Understanding soon floored Robin's expression, though, and he put a placating hand before him. "Emma, wait..."

"No - no 'wait'. You went after my brother," she said accusingly, glaring at Neal. Of course her first thought had been that he had resented her brother for telling her what he had seen in that room between him and Tamara that he had decided that using him as their pawn for their next prank would be a marvelous idea. But at the same time, something told her that he wouldn't go to such lengths to hurt her, now, wouldn't he? 

_Well, you didn't think he'd ever cheat on you either and look how that worked out, huh?_

To her surprise, Sydney - the Omega Chi president, - stood up from his seat and addressed her. "I didn't know he was your brother, to be completely fair. And you know how hazing is, Swan."

Her hands curled into fists, the urge to punch the guy in the face too strong for her to bear. "I don't care. This stupid vendetta against the KT needs to stop."

He just shook his head, undeterred. "Too late. And for the record, it's not like those guys have been playing with fire since day one. Have you seen their house? It's a miracle they're still a part of the Greek system."

She paused, still disbelieving at what David had told her. The moment she had been about to ask what had been of Henry - if security had taken him to the dean, or if he had been given his punishment yet - he had assured her that Killian had jumped in, assuring the officer that that was his backpack. At their unconvinced expression, Killian had asked Henry to show them what the rest of its contents were to prove himself, and when he had taken out Killian's laundry from inside - that he had asked Henry to do for him, as his pledge and little brother should, - they had consented, taking Killian with them instead.

Neal barked out a laugh, scratching his beard. "Emma, you have to admit, they kind of had it coming."

She glared at him - at all of them, had they taken part in their stupid prank or not, she didn't care. "I have known these guys since I got here. And I don't see what's so wrong about caring for his house and his brothers, or to make your college experience something special. To have fun with the people you care about."

She tried to reign her anger, realizing that no matter what she did or said, it wouldn't change anything. They would keep fighting, and people would get caught in the middle. Because that was what people did.

It was sad, really.

But she couldn't help the cruel glint in her eye or the smirk when she last promised at them before spinning on her heel and leaving, "Oh, and there's something else I know about Killian Jones. He's the biggest prankster on Earth, and he _so_ does enjoy a vendetta. So, I'd suggest you brace yourselves, pals."

Two weeks later, once Killian was done with the community service hours he had been fined with, the Omega Chi house woke up to find the entire furniture sitting on the roof.

 

* * *

 

"If you don't jump him, I will," Ruby warned, and Emma snorted, not even bothering to acknowledge her.

" _Right_."

"I'm serious."

She gave her friend a look, cocking her head to the side. "I'd try believing you if you stopped making moony eyes at your boyfriend every three seconds."

Ruby's scowl quickly morphed into a disgustingly sweet smile, and blew a kiss at the table at the back of the bar. Emma didn't need to turn to see how Victor must have acted as if he caught it in the air and hid it in his pocket; if she wanted to puke, she'd just drink herself to the point of nausea.

Mulan bit her straw, considering the guy who was shamelessly staring at their table with a pensive expression. "If she doesn't, I will."

Emma snorted _again_. "Your girlfriend won't approve."

"Who says she's not invited too?" Mulan replied cheekily, and the rest of the girls sitting around her choked on their drinks. What a sight they made, coughing and bumping each others' backs.

 _God_.

Ruby momentarily forgot all about her totally whipped boyfriend, setting all of her purpose on her instead. "Come on, Emma. He's cute, he's funny, and he has made it pretty clear he likes you."

It was true. The guy in question, Walsh, was in one of her classes and they had talked a couple of times. Nothing out of the ordinary, mind you, but she had known from the very first time he had dropped his folder with his notes right by her chair just so she'd help him and have a chance to ask her out. He hadn't been terribly subtle about it, to be fairly honest.

She supposed it was... _cute_?

She stirred her mojito with her straw. "I don't know, guys."

Ruby bumped her shoulder with hers, and grinned reassuringly, all red lips and big smiles as usual. What love did to people, really. "It's been weeks since the Neal debacle. You are fine, you are happy now. It's time to get back in the game!"

She threw her hands up in the air. "But it's what you said - I'm happy now, maybe because I _am_ single, I don't wanna ruin it by jumping into another disaster."

What was it with the need to be in a relationship to be happy? She couldn't understand it, really. It wasn't like she needed a man to make her happy. She was perfectly content right now as she was.

Mulan cautiously put a hand on her arm, to Emma's surprise. It usually were the rest of her friends who were way more vocal when it came to love advice and girl talk, but whenever she added her own input, Emma always found it incredibly helpful. "That's what she means. You're afraid to go through all that, and we get it but aren't the good moments worth the bad?" 

She looked dubiously at her, and then turned to find both Ruby and Regina looking expectantly at her. She let out a defeated sigh, slumping on the table and already regretting her decision. " _Fine_. I'll think about it."

Regina clicked her tongue, staring daggers at someone behind them, her painted lips thinning in obvious distaste. "Don't take too long, though - my dear step sister looks awfully interested in him."

The four of them turned in time to see Zelena, Regina's step sister, confidently taking a seat by Walsh, who greeted her with a smile and offered her a sip from his drink. Emma raised an eyebrow, not really knowing what to think about this new development, but chose not to dwell too much on it. Suddenly realizing her glass was already empty, she rose from her stool and offered it to Mulan, who had insisted on standing when they couldn't find enough seats for all of them. She walked backwards as she shrugged at her sisters. "If he isn't the one, it wasn't fate. Isn't my prince charming supposed to sweep me off my feet?"

She should have known that not looking where she was going would mean she would trip. Yeah, the universe totally hated her.

A ringed hand took her upper arm and steadied her, and Killian's amused voice came behind her. "Easy, Swan." 

She blinked. All that talk about princes sweeping her off her feet... "Oh." "You okay?"

She gently shook her arm free from his hold, trying desperately not to look too frazzled by that errant thought. "Yeah, just - you know. I'm lame." He smirked. "Nothing new there."

She rolled her eyes, impatiently trying to free a lock of her hair that had gotten tangled with a button on her shirt. His hand showed out of nowhere, silently helping her, and once it was done, she turned and walked to the bar, intent on getting a new drink, and knew he was following her. It spoke volumes of his reputation on campus that the bartender ignored her and the rest of the people waiting for a refill but rushed to take his order first. Damn him.

Once he gave her her second mojito of the night, she looked pointedly at him for a moment. "Did you put this on your tab?"

"Are you kidding? I put it on your tab, I just saved you from a lame fall that would have bruised your delicate sensibilities."

He had a point, but she as always preferred to give him a hard time nevertheless, snorting. "Gentleman my ass."

"A very nice one, may I add," he added cheekily, and she rolled her eyes They sipped in silence for a minute, each consumed in their drinking, their surroundings and the quiet comfort that came whenever they were together. Soon, though, he broke it by clearing his throat. "So, I heard the most outrageous rumor."

She gripped his arm in dawning realization. "About the girl in catholic group doing the nasty with Leroy? _Me too!"_  

She was awarded by a very green-faced Killian Jones, who looked about to pass out on the spot. He closed his eyes and shivered, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Not that one, but Jesus Christ, my ears are bleeding." Still a little hazed, he focused on her, his expression turning wondering and... softer, she'd say. "I heard about a certain ZBZ sticking up to me."

 _Oh_. "Did you now?"

He hummed, still not taking his eyes off her. She tried to play it off, giving him a sweet smile and pointing at a table on the far left of the bar, where a group of her sisters looked like they were having quite the fun night. "Tink's always had a soft spot for you. She'll bite anybody who dares say a thing about you." 

He followed her gaze to Tink's place, but didn't linger on it, instead quirking an eyebrow at her obvious dismissal. "Right." He smiled at her again, voice soft and warm. "Thank you, Emma. It means a lot, especially coming from you."

She knew what he meant. After all the things they had said once everything fell apart, the angry arguments and cruel remarks about each other, it was no wonder he appreciated her sticking up for him.

"They messed with my little brother, you defended him: I owed you."

"You didn't, though," he added vehemently, and she was rendered speechless. It was annoying, really, how he managed to do that.

She almost missed the longing way in which he stared at her, and started, "Emma, I..." "Can I ask you something?"

The question had left her lips before she could do anything to stop it. She really didn't know what she had been thinking, she had just known that she was terrified of the way he was looking at her, with those puppy eyes, and with affection and warmth and goddammit could it be _lesbians_...?

She just wasn't ready to hear whatever it was that he had been about to say.

He looked as surprised as she was at her question, but morphed the fleeting frustration at being interrupted with a mask of mischief. "Sure, go ahead."

"It's... for a friend," she made up quickly, kicking herself silently for being so _lame_. Lame, lame, _LAME_.

He didn't even try to hide his laughter, shaking his head in amusement. " _Right_. What's troubling your friend?"

She idly played with the lock of her that had escaped her ponytail, avoiding his eyes. She knew he was already laughing at her discomfort; she didn't need to actually _see_ it. "She had a messy breakup and she doesn't know if she's ready to... _date_ again."

That stopped his chuckling altogether. She chanced a glimpse at him under his lashes, taking in his surprise and something else in his expression. "Oh. Well, I'd say she'll know when the time's right."

She bit her lip. "You think so?"

There was that smile again. The one she had loved, the one that had made her safe and relieved that she wasn't alone, that there was someone to have her back no matter what. "Sure. And when the right guy comes, you'll know."

She exhaled slowly, taking in everything she had heard that night - her friends' advice, Killian's words, her own inner turmoil over the issue of resuming dating...

"Is there something in particular you'd like to discuss, Swan?"

Her eyes snapped up to his, and she blurted, "Walsh asked me out."

The face he made could have been labeled as hilarious if she hadn't seen the cloud of disappointment that passed through it. "Oh."

"I'm gonna say yes," she added before he could inquire further, and she should just clamp her hands over her mouth and shut the fuck up, God.

He carefully inspected her from the corner of his eye as he made a scene of staring at the table where Walsh still sat with his friends and Zelena happily perched at his side. "If you think it's the right thing to do, then by all means."

She swallowed the tiny ball of disappointment that she herself felt at his apparent indifference. "Really?"

He looked pensive for a moment, as if considering a rather difficult puzzle he had to solve. "He is... kind of simian-like, if you ask me. I didn't know that was your thing." 

She laughed despite herself, grateful that he somehow appeared to have recovered himself after what she'd told him. "You're an ass. And he doesn't look like a monkey!" 

"Maybe that's just me then," he shrugged, chugging the last of his drink in a go. She averted her eyes from the sight of his long neck as it moved, the strong jaw and rough stubble that she knew he carefully groomed.

"We all descend from monkeys, you know."

He made a face at her, pointing to Walsh with his glass. "Some more than others, clearly."

She shook her head, smiling. Insufferable as always. She tossed her hair dramatically as she made to go join her girls, feeling his eyes on her - and her backside, probably knowing him. "See ya, Jones."

"Goodbye, Emma."

 

* * *

 

As she had feared, things with Walsh didn't exactly work out. It wasn't like she had been dreaming about steady relationships, weddings and whatnot, but it had _definitely_ not worked. He was sweet alright, and he seemed genuinely interested in her - which she truly appreciated. But after a couple of dates, she had realized that she wouldn't let it go further with him. It lacked... the _thing_. _That_ thing. The spark. And even if the kiss they shared when he accompanied her to the house had been nice and he was cute and all - even if she had started looking at him and wondering if his slightly monkey-like ears was all Killian's fault or her imagination - shehad come to the conclusion that, yeah, that was all.

(He was polite enough to take it like a gentleman, kissing her hand and bidding her a good night, promising her that they could still be friends if she wanted. She accepted.)

But, believe it or not, Emma was happy, disastrous date aside. She had actually gonethrough it, and put herself out there. She had let the door open, so to speak. And even if it hadn't gone all too well, she was surprisingly proud of herself nevertheless. Anybody would call her crazy for being giddy after realizing you'd spent an evening with a guy and it was most definitelynot going anywhere, but Emma had known, somehow, that it wouldn't go further than a casual dinner and polite conversation. At least, now she knew that she could move on. That she _wanted_ to. 

At times, she had feared that she was too broken to consider leaving love in her life, but after a great scolding by her friends once she voiced her worries, she had come to the conclusion that she was wrong. That, if it hurt, it meant that it'd work again someday.

So, after telling to a bunch of overexcited and over sugared sisters that yes, Emma Swan was open for business once more, she bit her lip in contemplation. Yeah, she was ready to find that person who would make her feel precious, and cherished, and unique. And if that meant dating several frogs before it happened, then so be it. 

An annoying voice inside her huffily reminded her that she may have an idea of who that person already was to her, but she was unwilling to acknowledge it.

 

* * *

 

Emma groaned quietly into her cup as she listened to Henry recount his adventure with his brothers to David and Mary Margaret when they bumped into them on their usual Tuesday brunch.

It made her happy to see him completely at ease with the rest of the Kappa Tau house. She had been afraid enough when he had first told her he planned on rushing, but after seeing him with them and the way they truly respected him and had taken a liking to him - as much asthey could taking into account he was a pledge, that was, - those fears had evaporated into thin air.

Who'd have thought her brother was a Kappa Tau at heart, huh.

After he finished explaining their friends how Killian had planned a scaramouge in order to get him to turn in a paper he had forgotten due to his pledge duties - about which Emma had already given him a piece of her mind, - she rolled her eyes.

"Since when has Jones become so wise, anyway?" It looked like _someone_ had a little bromance going on with the Kappa Tau president, and for once, it wasn't her.

( _Are you sure about that?_ )

Henry shrugged, grinning happily. "I don't know. He seems pretty happy lately, though."

"Really? And what is the happy occasion? A trip to Neverland? Lifelong presidency of the KT house? Free booze for the rest of the semester?" she joked, and shared a smirk with Mary Margaret and a fist bump with David. Henry didn't look too impressed, though.

"No, since Milah came." 

She froze, her foot tripping with a root on one of the many sidewalks on campus. "Wait - _Milah_? Milah Gold? Neal's cousin?"

David guffawed, massaging his temples as if he was about to have a headache. "I bet he's  _thrilled_ about this."

Emma's mind reeled, memories of Killian telling her about his high school sweetheart rushing through her head. Apparently her family had moved to London during their senior year,and even if they had tried to make it work, they had finally called it quits. They had been too miserable, he had told her one of the few times he shared his history with her. Emma knew they had still kept contact, though, and considered each other best friends of sorts - or at least as friends as one could be with someone who had been such a big part of your life, someone you'd fallen for. The way he had spoken about her - it had made Emma queasy both with jealousy and pity.

And now she was there, and Killian was obviously over the moon at having her back in his life. Well. As they said - _fuck_.


	4. Chapter 4

She closed the door to her room quietly in an attempt not to attract attention of any of her sisters. Ruby was at class, and Emma had parted with Henry, David and Mary Margaret a short while before with a half-stammered excuse and quick feet taking her to the house.

She needed to think.

Hell, she needed to _breathe_.

_“No, since Milah came.”_

Henry’s voice echoed inside her head. Back still pressed against the door, she left herself fall until she was pathetically sitting in a tangle of shaking limbs and papers that had escaped from her folder, hair pressed to her sweaty forehead as she struggled to follow a slow rhythm of inhale-exhale.

She didn’t even know why she was acting like this. She should have guessed he wouldn’t really wait for her anymore. Well, reasonably, she still didn’t know if they had started dating again, at least Henry hadn’t said so; even though it was the most logical expectation, knowing their history.

And wasn’t it ironic, really, that she was feeling like there was no air left to breathe and something had slammed against her chest, rendering her numb beyond limits? She had ignored that spark of something that still burned whenever she thought of Killian, of his laugh and his twinkling eyes, of his smile when he looked at her. She had convinced herself that it was just nostalgia and old feelings coming to life after they had started seeing each other so much - and after that night in his house, pretty much. She had tried to tell herself that it was just a fleeting feeling, but once she had heard something - or rather someone, - was threatening that possibility, she had been faced with the cruel reality.

She was a coward. She had taken Killian for granted, and now she was paying the price.

And even if she repeated to herself that it wasn’t really her fault, that even if she had wanted to try to make it work after she broke up with Neal she knew it wouldn’t have because she needed _time_ to herself before she could commit to another relationship, the truth of the matter was that life didn’t wait for anybody. Especially not for her.

And so she bit her lip in silent fury, blinking back tears as she sat sagging against her door, praying that none of her sisters heard her silent sobs.

 

* * *

 

“Emma?”

She whirled around, so startled at hearing her name called that she dropped the book she had been perusing and wondering if it was worth reading or not. She just couldn’t bear to read another romance novel right now, but apparently not even any fiction or horror book that she picked up was free of doey eyes and love triangles, or so it seemed.

She took in Neal’s sheepish face, looking carefully at her, as if he wasn’t really sure if coming to talk to her hadn’t been the best idea.

To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t 100% sure, either.

But then, they were at her favorite bookstore on campus, the one where he had taken her dozens of times and they had spent days at. It wasn’t _that_ weird that they had run into each other precisely there.

She smiled politely. “Hey. How have you been?”

He grinned back, looking relieved that she hadn’t decided to ignore him. “Good, everything’s great.”

“That’s good.”

“I know. What about you?”

She gripped the stripe of her handbag mightily. “Just grand,” she said, patting herself in the back for sounding almost half-convincing.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

They stood facing each other for a moment, at a loss of what to say after the Politeness 101 routine was done. She recalled the last times she had seen him - he had shown up at the ZBZ house to pick up Tamara.

Yeah, _that_ had happened. Was still happening, in fact.

It wasn’t like she had been overly surprised, to be honest. She had walked with Tamara from campus to the house enough times to catch Neal’s name being mentioned from time to time. Nevertheless, she found out it was official once her little sister had timidly approached her to tell her that she was, indeed, dating Neal, and she’d rather she heard from Tamara herself than from anybody else.

Emma had to admit she liked Tamara more and more, even if the circumstances of their first meeting were rather unfortunate. Who would have guessed she’d get along with the girl her ex boyfriend cheated her on with?

She cleared her throat rather obnoxiously to catch Neal’s attention. “So, Tamara tells me you two are going to your place for the holidays.”

“Yeah. My parents are dying to meet her, actually,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. She knew him well enough to guess that he was anxious about it. She snorted.

“No kidding. Senator’s daughter as your date? I bet they’re over the moon.”

He pondered her words for a moment, pursing his lips in deep thought. “I think I hurt her when I told her first I didn’t think it was a good idea to go and introduce them,” he confessed quietly. “I just...”

“...don’t want them scaring her with political pairing off crap?” Emma finished for him, cocking her head to the side. He smiled thinly, clicking his tongue.

“Yeah.”

She was about to put a hand over his shoulder commiseratively, but thought better about it. “Tamara’s a big girl, she has been through a ton of political shit herself. Give her a little credit.”

His eyes met hers, grateful and smiling. “Thank you Emma.”

Emma Swan, giving ex boyfriends love advice. What was her life anymore.

She smiled back, but turned serious as she remembered something she _really_ wanted to tell him concerning her little sister.

“Just - don’t hurt her.”

His expression sobered, and he nodded, inspecting her closely. Something passed between them, the unvoiced ‘just how you hurt me’ heavy in the air, and for once she appreciated him not trying to excuse himself with some half-assed apology. He merely accepted it in silence, until the charged atmosphere was too much and he chuckled quietly.

“Now I get why Henry was so willing to tell you what I did that night instead of accepting our bid. You’re a great sister.”

“Thank you,” she answered, oddly touched. She may be a mess, but apparently something that nobody could take away from her was that she was, indeed, a great sister. Thank God for small mercies.

She struggled with herself for a moment, wondering if she should or not, but before she could really take a decision about it, she blurted out, “So I hear your cousin’s here.”

He looked surprised by the change of topic. “Yeah, she is... _oh_ ,” he acknowledged with a trace of his old smirk, and she bristled silently.

_Busted_.

“Oh what?” she said defensively

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” This was looking more and more like a children exchange by the minute.

He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow knowingly. “You’re trying to fish for information about my cousin. And Killian.”

She stared at him in fake disbelief. “I am _not_.”

“Yes you are.”

(She _totally_ was.)

“I am not! Henry mentioned the other day that she had transferred and I was surprised, that’s all,” she insisted. Neal simply shrugged.

“Great. Then it’ll be the same to you if I tell you that they’re back together?”

There was a clear challenge in his tone, and she scowled. “Of course. It makes sense - she is his great love from high school. It’s fairy tale material. Happy ending and all that.”

Neal gave her a long, measured look. “You know, you used to be way better at this thing.”

“What thing?”

“Lying,” he stated confidently, and she was left gaping at him, not knowing at all what to say. She also knew what he was referring to - during their relationship they hadn’t really lied to each other, or so she thought. But during their freshman year, Neal had been the one to tell her it was okay to _not_ be okay. Whenever he asked her if she was alright when she and Killian had a fight, she automatically claimed she was fine.

She definitely hadn’t been fine. Yet Neal had finally learned to read some of these lies on her face.

She’d rather not think of who had always known how to pick up the truth in between the lies.

Neal seemed to take pity on her, because he inched closer to her, silently seeking her gaze. “And for the record? I have seen Jones both with Milah and you. Both were great love stories.”

She gulped, feeling very small and weak all of a sudden. “Thank you, Neal,” she finally muttered, grateful beyond words. He nodded, grinning meekly at her.

“You’re welcome.”

He left with a soft farewell, and Emma crouched down to pick up the book she had dropped earlier, and keeping to herself her thoughts.

Great love stories they might be, but hers was definitely not a fairytale.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t know how long she had been standing in that corridor, but if she were to bet on it, it’d probably turn out to be an embarrassingly long time.

But, be as it may, junk food was a Very Big Deal for Emma Swan, and shame on you if you dared judging her for spending half an hour picking between cereals or chocolate muffins.

Right hand clutching the muffins like they were trying to fly away from her, and left one hovering over the stupidly large cereal section, she was 90% sure she was making a scene. She hadn’t missed the worried glance an old lady had shot her way ten minutes earlier, but at that point she was beyond caring.

There were many things she was done with, and people giving her the stink eye for not leaving her spot in that corridor at the grocery store was just one of them. She was done with people still making snide comments about her breakup with Neal - seriously, they hadn’t been together for _months_ already, would people just let it _go_?, - or her friends trying to set her up for blind dates even when they knew she abhorred them, or her favorite TV show hiatuses.

And Killian Jones and his girlfriend. She was _more_ than done with him. Them. Whatever.

(It wasn’t like it was his - _their_ \- fault, but yeah, she was in no rush to go talk to him - _them_.) (Ugh, changing pronouns when someone suddenly sprouted a soulmate was so annoying.)

(She ignored her need to choke back a sob when she realized that going from ‘I’ to ‘we’ wouldn’t be so annoying. Alas, it wasn’t in the cards anymore.) (Thus, the comfort food.)

She groaned under her breath, trying to force herself to focus on the cereal before her.

“You should try the Golden Grahams.”

She clutched the muffins in her right hand harder, and whirled around to find a guy staring amusedly at her. Mid-twenties, unruly sandy curls, defined jaw and perfect stubble.

Okay. He _was_ cute.

But, cute or not, it still didn’t excuse him for interrupting her sacred ritual of not being able to decide which cereal she should take back home.

“Have never tried them actually,” she said nonchalantly, averting her eyes.

Cute guy stepped closer until he was standing at her left, and she saw his arm stretch out to pick a box and hand it to her. “How _dare_ you. They’re delicious.”

“It’s just not my thing.”

She wondered if he got the heavily implied _I’m not interested in flirting as of now_.

She wondered if she would actually believe herself, after realizing he had an accent. And the stubble.

Ugh.

Cute accent guy smirked at her. “How would you know if you haven’t tried?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, bag of muffins dangling from her hand as she smiled at him sardonically. “How do I know you haven’t put something on them and are just trying to make me take them to drug me and take advantage of me?”

He gaped at her. “You may have _horrible_ taste for cereal, but definitely compensate it with a wild imagination.”

She fought the urge to laugh, and failed miserably, letting out an undignified snort. _Seriously, Emma, even if you didn’t try, you wouldn’t attract any guy by acting like_ that _._

Biting her lip, she considered for the thousandth time the boxes lined up on the shelves and the muffins with a pained expression. “I just don’t know what to take okay. This is a huge deal for me.”

“Buy all of them,” he said with a shrug. She pouted back.

“I didn’t bring that much cash. Also I should add something like ‘I wanna eat healthy and not gain ten pounds by eating half of the grocery store’”

She tried not to find the way he appraised her body as flattering. “Hmmm. That’s quite the conundrum.” Suddenly, he turned to her, grinning in anticipation. “Let’s make a deal. We both try something completely different.”

This guy was weird. Cute, but weird. “What?”

“No muffins, no cereal.”

She really should tell him to get the fuck out or she’d shove his beloved Golden Grahams up his cute _arse_ , but she didn’t. She just stared at him, mouth agape, internally fighting the mechanical urge that told her to run and forget about this conversation, whereas another part of her reminded her that she had spent the last weeks moping and listening to sad playlists and watching movies that compelled her to throw herself off a cliff or something and what if the guy was a little enthusiastic and smiled softly at her like he knew her already? What was wrong with doing something unexpected?

Would it be so bad, to let go?

She hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

“Okay. What do you propose, then?”

Cute accent guy’s grin widened, and he cleared his throat. “Close your eyes. Extend your arm.” She gave him a look, and he shook his head, frustrated. “I’m not gonna tickle you, or throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you, I promise.”

With a last warning glance, she exhaled softly and closed her eyes. She stretched out her arm, and she felt his hand move it around in circles. Then, he let it go, and she kept circling around until she stopped.

She opened her eyes.

“Bearclaws,” she read, and he whistled under his breath. Meeting his eyes, she startled at how giddy he looked just for this more-than-random meeting and sudden promise between strangers to try some new pastry.

“Bearclaws it is.”

She picked up two bags, giving him one and keeping the other to herself after leaving the muffin one on its shelf. “If they’re horrible I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He nodded seriously, even if she could see the amused glint in his eyes. “It would be my pleasure, Miss...?”

She shut down the alarm bells in her head.

“Emma. Emma Swan.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d say he couldn’t stop smiling, and it sent a rush of warmth through her, being quite convinced that, even if she didn’t know him at all - just that he appeared to be pretty vocal about his favored cereal brand, - she was pretty sure it was because of _her_. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma Swan, cereal section hoverer. I’m Graham Humbert.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. What a _dork_. “Golden Grahams. Funny, that.”

Cute accent guy - Graham, she reminded herself, - bowed, joining her as he chuckled. “I try my best. Anyway, I should be going. I’ll see you around, Emma Swan. It was a pleasure running into you.”

But, as much as she looked for him at the cash register, she didn’t see him again.

Not that day, at least.

* * *

The annual Vesuvius party at Kappa Tau was being held, as per tradition, at the house’s courtyard, which had been appropriately ornamented with streamers, paper ribbons in every color the brothers had been able to find, Hawaiian attire on the attendants and every sea-themed and exotic jewelry that one could possibly imagine. Emma hadn’t been really eager to attend for obvious reasons - and _fuck_ , since when had she put up such a fight to a party with free booze just because of a guy, seriously, - but Ruby and the rest of her friends weren’t having any of her shit and had literally dragged her through campus until she was inside the house, clinking a red cup to her sisters’ and ignoring rowdy and drunk fratboys pleading with them to clink their coconuts together.

Yeah. Ruby had made all of them wear a pair of coconuts over their bikini tops.

She should feel way more mortified than she was, but whatever it was that the Kappa Taus had put into the daikiri she was sipping, it was definitely working and alarmingly fast, if she said so herself. She felt oddly grateful for it, if she was being honest.

That didn’t mean that she _was_ fine. She was anything but, especially when she took notice of Henry’s disheveled hair bouncing around and when she approached him she found him eagerly kissing a girl.

Half of his brothers clapped and wooed with gusto, catcalls and whistles roaring around the young couple. Well, all of them except Jefferson, whom Emma saw sulking at the improvised bar settled at the side of the courtyard and chugging shots like there was no tomorrow, probably with the intention of getting so sloshed the burn of the alcohol would wipe away any memory of one of his pledges’s hands on his little sister.

Not that she wasn’t happy for her brother: she was, she was over the moon, truly, but she was also feeling more and more stifled as people around her pressed and moved, and she stalked to the doors leading inside, desperately seeking a spot that wasn’t teeming with drunk party-goers or gossiping groups of girls. She slouched against one of the doors, away from the stream of students that kept showing up to enjoy a night of blissful alcohol-induced haze and loud music.

So caught up she was that she barely registered that there was somebody else hiding at the same spot she had chosen. Killian was standing there, cigarette in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other.

She choked back a whimper. Of all people, really.

She yanked the bottle out of his hand, ignoring his look of surprise. She was sick and tired of beer in every single party. Thankfully, he opted not to say anything, choosing to take in the scene presented before them with a smile.

“It was about bloody time,” he said, jerking his chin towards Henry and Grace. Emma remained silent, taking a swig of the rum and licking her lips to catch any stray drops. She knew his eyes were tracking the movement.

(What she definitely didn’t see the _way_ he did, watching the tip of her tongue like a hawk watches its prey.)

Not that it mattered, anyway. Not now. Not when he was someone else’s.

“So. Where’s Milah?” she inquired, trying to appear casual and unfazed and not like, you know, she had to physically _force_ the words out, breaking out skin and leaving her covered in scars.

He gaped at her. “How do you know about that?”

She gave him a sharp look in return. “Seriously? Have you actually looked around yourself? Gossip Girl episode?” she pressed. She ignored his amused chortle, and took another swig of the bottle. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounded faintly embarrassed, to her surprise. “I wasn’t aware we had to call and share everything that goes on in our lives.”

“Forget it.” Emma mumbled, flushing in embarrassment. Picking up her red cup and thrusting the bottle back to him, she made to go back to the party in search of her friends, but a warm hand settled over her forearm, halting her.

“It’d have been awkward.”

She rolled her eyes. It sounded so lame, she felt like screaming at him. “You couldn’t be awkward even if you actually tried, Jones,” she said, smiling so that she wouldn’t burst into tears. 

He exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in that gesture that she had come to know as frustration. “What do you want me to say, Emma?”

“Are you happy?” she whispered, bracing herself for the reckoning.

He locked gazes with her, open and honest, leaving no mistake to read whatever it was he was feeling. “Yes.”

_Ouch_.

It shouldn’t hurt so bad, being told that someone you cared so much about was happy. That someone besides yourself managed to make them happy.

How selfish could she be, _God_. She repulsed herself. 

“Good,” she said, so softly that she worried he had barely heard her, but didn’t stay to find out. She walked away, the coconuts clinking merrily as she went back to the chaos the party provided.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you think it’d be weird?”

Emma looked at her brother, amused at the way he scrapped the bottom of his cup with a spoon to save any remains of chocolate. “I don’t really know. Does he look too old?”

He frowned. “I don’t think so. But I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Emma sighed. She really had no idea what to tell him. Apparently the campus staff had finally appointed an adult to her brother’s dorm, and to her surprise, Henry and the rest of the engineering program students had bonded quite rapidly with the new RA.

Apparently to the point that Henry was considering inviting this guy to the next party held at his house.

Did they _ever_ stop throwing parties? How did they even manage to keep up?

She rearranged her sunglasses over her curls. “Well, just let him know subtly that there is a party and check out his reaction. Depending on it, extend an invitation. Easy as pie.”

Henry scrunched up his nose. “That won’t work. Graham looks okay with everything. He’s really chill.”

Wait a second...

“Graham?” She asked, aghast. “Curly sandy hair? Cute accent?” _A pretty damn cute ass to go with a pretty damn cute face?_

Henry beamed at her, face lighting like she was the freaking sun. “Yeah, that’s him! How do you know him?”

“I... ran into him. He’s nice.” She chuckled, taking a bite of her muffin with delight, internally amused thinking back at the conversation with the cute guy she had met at the grocery store the previous week.

“If it isn’t my favorite brother and sister.”

Emma almost choked on her muffin, and wasted no time in picking up a handful of napkins to wipe away any stray crumbs. She peeked behind her to check that, indeed, it was Killian approaching their table in that confident swagger of his, grinning merrily. Despite her best efforts, she smiled back.

It slipped from her face when she realized that his hand was holding a feminine one.  

_Shit_.

Henry’s enthusiastic voice brought her to the present, and she spent the spare seconds left until they reached their table to studiously clean it from their earlier breakfast’s crumbs. “Hey Killian!”

Killian pulled out the chair on her left and maneuvered the brunette girl to sit on it, and then plopped down at the seat left at Henry’s side. “Little brother and big sister. This is Milah.”

She gave them both a brilliant smile, shaking hands eagerly. “Hey! I was wondering when I’d finally meet you. This guy has told me so much about you two!”

Emma could feel the smile frozen on her lips. She had had time to perfect fake polite exchanges since she had gotten to college, but nevertheless, she felt untrained for _this_.

“Henry Mills.”

“Emma Swan.”

She frowned, pointing first towards Henry and then at Emma. “Oh. I thought you were brother and sister?”

Emma visibly winced. It wasn’t like it was any secret, but having to explain at the first introduction with a stranger that you were an orphan wasn’t really her favorite situation to be thrown in.

Killian looked uncomfortably in her direction. “Milah...”

“Henry’s parents adopted me when I was 14,” she explained, cutting him off and looking back at her. Milah’s brow furrowed, realizing her mistake.

“Oh.”

They stayed silent for a couple of awkward seconds, in which Emma tried to clamp down the bitchy urge to take note of pros and cons she could find in the girl sitting at her side. She could be _that_ girl who noticed how her lower teeth were slightly crooked, or how there was a stain on her shirt. How even if she had sparkling blue eyes and glossy hair, Emma had brilliant blond hair that naturally stayed miraculously straight instead of curly in this weather.

Alas, she was not that kind of girl, and the only thing that stuck to her was that she was beautiful. Extraordinarily so.

“So. You’re Neal’s cousin huh?” Henry inquired curiously. Milah nodded, grateful for the change of topic.

“Yeah. I haven’t really seen him around since I got here, though.”

Emma snorted despite herself. “No shit.”

At Milah’s confused face, Henry rushed to explain. “He’s not really a fan of us KTs. Doesn’t hide it well, either.”

“You Greeks and your rivalries. I will never understand,” Milah said, shaking her head. She pointedly looked at Killian as she spoke, but he just gave her one of his usual nonchalant shrugs.

“Irreconcilable differences, or so my therapists tells me.”

Henry and Milah laughed heartily at his barb, but Emma could feel the muscles on her face stretching uncomfortably, tired already of the exchange. She had been in Killian’s presence lately, but she had mastered the art of fleeing whenever it got too charged, which happened minutes from them starting any kind of conversation. She believed Killian was growing pretty vexed at her not-too-subtle ignoring of his persona, but she just couldn’t fight against it.

So Emma decided to do what she did best.

Run away.

“I’m gonna go grab a coffee,” she said, her chair scraping the linoleum as she made to go to the coffee stand. 

“Swan, lies don’t become you.”

Emma took a deep breath, and got her voice back. “What was that?”

Killian rolled his eyes, and instead of answering her, pointed a finger at her and explained to Milah, “She hates coffee.”

Emma’s hand curled into a fist. She didn’t appreciate the obvious jab, but she guessed she had it coming. Fishing her wallet from inside her pocket, she muttered a ‘whatever’ in her wake as she trudged to the short queue waiting to order for their beverages. Still reeling from the scene she had left, it almost passed in a blur, and before she was aware of it, she was standing before the bartender.

“Cocoa please.”

“Name?”

A voice that was definitely not hers called. “Emma Swan.” She turned and put a hand over her chest, smiling.

“You again!”

Graham’s lips twitched in amusement. With his slacks, shirt and grey vest, he looked as if he had come out of some Burberry advertisement campaign instead of her brother’s engineering floor at the dorms. At the way he observed her, she felt cheeks flushing, suddenly lamenting not having worn the skirt she had lent Ruby that morning.

Not that the skinny jeans she had put on instead didn’t do wonders to her derrière, but, whatever.

The question was - why was _this_ guy making her second-guess what she was wearing?

(Her heart did a flip-flop in her chest as she came to the conclusion that yeah, Emma, you’re _totally_ trying to impress the cute guy with the sweet tooth.)

“Me indeed. I thought I told you to stay away from the chocolate?”

She leaned against the stand, looking up at him questioningly. “Are you calling me _fat_?”

“I wouldn’t dare, I’m just concerned about your supposedly healthy diet. Your rather attractive physique is the least of my concerns, I promise,” he stated adamantly. She squinted her eyes at him, trying to gather if he was messing with her or not.

“Are you... _flirting_ with me? You’re all mixed signals and bearclaws.”

He laughed heartily at that, and when he recovered he inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Emma Swan, for coming up with my new Twitter bio.”

“Give credit where credit is due, please,” she said, nodding sagely.

They stared at each other, still smiling, and Emma had to wonder how she had gone from anxious and fretting at her table with Killian and Milah to giddy and amused with this guy. She was about to ask him something when Henry sidled up to them, beaming at him. “Graham!”

“Hey Henry!”

“She was telling me you met her the other day!” Henry said with a grin. Graham stared at her, surprised, and she shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“He’s my brother.”

His face softened, looking from Henry to her, silently connecting the dots. “So I see.”

And the thing was that, yeah, he probably saw.

Henry bounced on his feet. “We were talking about you coming over to a party at my fraternity house this week.”

“Really now?”  He looked taken aback by the invitation, and Emma had to wonder if he had been to any since he had arrived to campus. He turned to her, inquisitively. “Will _you_ be there?”

Emma shrugged, huffing a laugh. “Better than stuffing myself with chocolate muffins, now, isn’t it?”

He chuckled in response. Clearing his throat, he stepped nearer to Henry, trying to appear commanding. “Don’t you have a test this week?”

Henry waved away his concern, blasé beyond words to describe. “It’s all in here already, but thanks for worrying,” he explained, tapping his temple.

Graham sought her gaze and they both shared an exasperated look, but yet they smiled at Henry, and his RA finally conceded and accepted to show up at this supposedly ‘awesome’ party of his. The three of them kept talking and joking, and Emma was more than thrilled to realize how light-hearted it all was, the easy and comfortable way in which they conversed and looked at each other and made the other laugh, without the constant fear of messing everything up or being rejected.

Or feeling too much in too little time.

Not long later, Killian and Milah joined them, after Killian jokingly berated them for abandoning them in their table. If Emma hadn’t been cracking up at Graham’s story of how he had managed to break into the zoo in his hometown one night and to the manager’s disbelief they had found him chilling with the wolf they kept there as if he did it everyday, she would have caught Killian’s eyes resting on her through the entire exchange, an unreadable expression on his face as he saw her laughing, carefree and happier than he had seen her in weeks.

But she didn’t notice, because, as it was, she felt carefree and happier than she had been in weeks. And thanks to the cute guy with the bearclaws and vests and accent, being in Killian’s presence didn’t feel so messed up.

 

* * *

 

 

The raucous sounds of the party faded as she walked away from it, but even as she stepped out onto the porch where she had a clear view of the courtyard, she had no problem still hearing the laughter and the drunk voices of her friends singing “Timber” drifting in the cold night air.

The laughter no longer bothered her as it once may have had when she was in one of her moods. Instead she found it oddly reassuring, even if the sight of Killian being his usual crazy host president self still managed to make her feel like someone was holding her heart in his hand and squeezing it everytime she saw him with Milah.

The sound of light footsteps coming her way made her swivel around, and for a fleeting moment her heart stopped, thinking that it was _him_.

Turns out, it wasn’t him.

(Of course it wasn’t.)

(Not that she wanted it to be him. She believed that she just didn’t know how to act around him anymore. Like whatever they had had, that easy way of understanding the other had somehow become strained, and nothing felt quite the same anymore.)

(And it hurt. Losing that. Whatever it was.)

It was Graham.

She moved to the side to leave some space for him to sit with her, and he obliged, clinking his beer with hers.

“So. What’s the deal with compadre over there?”

She stiffened. She didn’t even need to look to know that he was pointing at Killian, who was otherwise occupied in a beer pong tournament.

Was she _that_ obvious?

She huffed, trying to appear disinterested and hoping to God he just left it alone.

“Did you just say _compadre_?”

He tsked at her with a scowl. “I don’t know if you have noticed, but we _do_ share an accent. So yes. Compadre.”

“I’m shocked,” she teased, staring down at her boots. After a few minutes of sipping their beer in silence, he spoke again.

“Still waiting, Miss Swan.”

_Fuck_. Emma lowered her glass from her lips and sighed.

“There’s nothing to say.”

She could almost taste the disbelief in his voice. “So why are you moping over here?”

“I am _not_ moping.”

“You _so_ are,” he said teasingly.

“Whatever.”

“Is he your ex?”

Seriously, was it _that_ obvious? “Yeah.”

For a few seconds there was silence. Then she heard him hum under his breath, as if he had just pieced out a very complicated puzzle in his head.

She hoped that puzzle wasn’t her.

“You two seem to get along.”

She chuckled, because really, Killian and she weren’t definitely on their best terms - or at least, she wasn’t. But it was true that she played the role pretty damn well. She wasn’t sure Killian believed her - he had always had a knack for reading her, after all, - but... yeah.

It _was_ a mess.

“I guess we do.”

“So why didn’t it work out?”

Which time, she wanted to say. Instead, she shrugged. “He partied too much.”

“No way.”

She ignored his amused tone, and took a hearty gulp of her drink. If she kept up this rate, she’d get drunk off her ass in no time.

“That’s pretty much it, actually. It was during freshman year,” she pointed out. He cocked an eyebrow, knocking his shoulder with hers teasingly.

“ _Everybody_ parties too much freshman year.”

She paused for a moment, looking for some way to explain to him what had been the breaking point. “We were both kids. Kids in love, yeah, but still kids.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes flashed with repressed sadness. She was sick and tired of reliving that time, since the school year had started and things had changed - since Tamara came, and Neal messed up, and she messed up with Killian...

It definitely was one giant mess.

Graham just stared at her. “So? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. It just - I’m like Wendy in Peter Pan. One day, we have to grow up.”

There was a long pause as Emma waited for the inevitable snide remark. She received none.

Instead, Graham stood on his feet, finishing his beer in one large gulp while she stared at him curiously. The guy was known for being spontaneous, if their first meeting was anything to judge him by, so she really didn’t know what to expect of him. He moved towards the side of the house, and she stopped following his movements with a shrug. If he wanted to say something else, he would tell her.

He did.

“Well, Emma Swan, I’m sorry to say... that today is not that day!”

She was about to say something when a splash of water hit her back, and she yelped, scared out of her mind. She jumped to her feet, beer spilling on the steps leading up to the porch she had been sitting on, and ran to try to escape, but the freaking idiot was holding the hose and directing it at her.

“Stop it!”

“Never!”

He kept splashing her and realizing that she had nowhere to run to hide, she changed tactics.

Fuck self-defense: attack.

She ran straight to him, and she had one second of rejoice at seeing the horror in his face as she tackled him and fought for the hose. He tried to put it out of her reach, but she finally took it, and pointed it at him, drenching him to the bone. She heard claps and woots behind them, and she could only imagine the scene they were making, but at that moment, she didn’t care.

She was laughing, and he was laughing, and they were completely soaked and she didn’t care.

He threw the hose to the side in surrender, and climbed to his feet hurriedly to offer her his hand. She took it, almost slipping on the puddle that had gathered under them and toppling over him, but they miraculously stayed upright, laughing harder.

“If you wanted to make an impression here, you definitely did.” she said sarcastically through her teeth.

“Here I thought I had won you over that day in the supermarket.”

She looked up at him, startled and speechless. Was he...?

“EMMA MOIRA SWAN.” They both turned to find Victor trying to call for their attention. He pointed at her with a wide wave of his hand. “You can’t take the wet t-shirt award to the ZBZ house every year, you know.”

If there was something akin to dying of embarrassment, she was pretty sure she could have achieved it in that moment.

She hadn’t really been thinking about her shirt being see-through when she had worn it before the party.

Surprisingly, after she peeked at Graham from the corner of her eye and he silently offered his jacket, she shook her head, her lips curling in a smile.

She didn’t care.

Instead, she looked back at Victor, scowling. “That was only _once_.”

She heard someone chanting her name, and she finally spied Ruby, who had hoisted herself up on Philip’s back, piggyback style. She also appeared to have won the beer pong tournament, taking into account the dangerous way in which she swayed left to right.

Henry climbed the steps to the porch and sidled up to her, reached for her hand and pumped it in the air, as everybody crowed and clapped, choruses of ‘Emma’ being chanted from all the house. She flushed, still a bit embarrassed, but quickly recovered, and turned her body to grip Graham’s arm and positioning him at Henry’s other side.

“I couldn’t have done it without my friend over here, Graham Humbert.” She gave Henry a look, and he winked at her, reading her mind. While he repeated the motion with his RA, Emma ran to the back and picked the hose up again, and splashed Graham from behind. His startled yelp was music to her ears.

“I guess we need a male wet t-shirt award now, guys!”

Henry ran to her side and she offered him the hose with a bow of her head. “Hereby, young Jedi, your weapon. Use it wisely.”

Graham followed her and let his lips hover over her ear, and she shivered. If it was for the sudden chill because of the cold water or him, she couldn’t say. “You are _so_ gonna pay for that,” he promised in a low voice as he reached up to play with one of her wet curls. She grinned back.

“Bring it.”

Minutes later, 98% of the party attendants were soaked, or at least partly. Graham had put her over his shoulders and carried her around, urging her to try to fight Ruby off Philip’s. Henry had already devised some mechanism to try to splash beer instead of water, encouraged by his brothers, but Grace had been adamant on not letting him do it. August had had to take Jefferson to his room before he passed out again.

But she wasn’t really aware of any of it. She wasn’t really sure anybody was aware of how she fell from Graham’s shoulder and finally stepped on the grass, or the way his hands held her hips, slipping on her wet skin, or the way she shivered at the feeling.

She wasn’t really sure of anything, besides that she _really_ wanted Graham to kiss her.

Or viceversa.

So she did, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Graham opened the door to his ridiculously small room at the engineering floor and gawked at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you lunch,” she explained, waving a brown paper bag in the air with a smile. She grinned wider when he tried to snatch it from her but she hid it behind her back, tapping her lips teasingly. He growled quietly, and with an exaggerated eyeroll, he bent down to kiss her.

She had meant for him to only peck her, but it turned out that, apart from being hungry for peanut jam sandwiches, he was apparently really hungry for one and only Emma Swan.

Not that she minded. _At all._

He pulled her body flush against his and swept his tongue into her mouth. She could taste something sugary on him, and the smell of nature and wind and sunlight that somehow seemed to follow him no matter what.

He pushed her inside the room and, as soon as the door was closed behind them, he was at her side growling with impatience, his mouth fastened to the sensitive skin of her throat, his hands frantically tugging at the hem of her shirt. By the time she finally managed to maneuver them to his bed, one strap of her shirt was already broken and every button on his had popped off in their desperate attempt to gain access to each other’s skin.

They almost fell from the tiny bed he had been given, but she was so high on him she didn’t really mind.

Later, they were sprawled out on said bed, books scattered all around them because he had no shelves to put them on and the few of them that did had fallen to the ground once they had started their more than vigorous activities. The skin on her naked skin rose up in goose bumps as he drew lazy patterns on the skin of her back, his stubble rubbing her forehead when she tucked her head under his chin.

“You are amazing, did you know that?” he breathed, giving her what she had come to recognize as his lazy, post-coital smile. She grinned in response.

“I know, but it’s nice to hear it from time to time.”

He pulled her closer to him, and she moved so that she could properly see his face. She let her hand trace his lips, giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush once he playfully tried to bite it.

“Tell me about you.”

She stopped the wandering of her fingers on his face, confused. “What?”

He shrugged, snaking his arm around her waist so that every inch of them were pressed against the other. “Tell me something about you. I want to know all about you.”

She snorted, thinking that he knew her well enough - or at least, he knew really well her body’s reaction whenever they were together. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. When’s your birthday?”

“October 23rd.” She smiled softly to herself, thinking back at when Henry had been the first one to learn her birthday and give her a present, showing up at their former high school with a cupcake and a candle.

That kid, really. Sweeter than candy.

Graham’s rough hands rubbed her shoulder as he hummed. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

She wondered for a moment whether it was safe to trust him with her answer. In the end, she decided to murmur the truth. Some things she _was_ ready to tell him, she guessed. “A princess.”

He didn’t laugh or make fun of her, but his hand held her tighter to him, her nose pressing against the hollow of his throat. She brushed her lips over the exposed skin, silently thanking him for _getting_ it.

They remained in silence for several minutes, content and lazy, taking in their intimacy and knowing that it was right to be held by the other. She had almost slipped to a light sleep when he spoke again.

“What is your favorite color?”

She chuckled, eyelids still shut and tangling her legs with his. “Blue.”

“Really? I’d have thought it was red,” he admitted, surprised, and she kicked his shin with her foot.

“I think you’re confusing me with Ruby, that’s her color.”

He snickered, agreeing with her.

“Why blue?”

She stiffened momentarily, but promptly kissed his neck again, masking a laugh. “Do I need a reason?”

“I guess not,” he conceded, and his hand wandered lowly until it was resting on her hip, moving back and forth in a maddening rhythm. Instead of letting him distract her, she took his hand in hers, clamping it down on her belly. 

“What about you?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“What is your favorite color?”

“Green.”

She tried not to giggle. Surprise, surprise. All his background pictures - on his desktop, phone, everything, - were luscious forest and bewitching scenarios full of vibrant foliage.

Her boyfriend, the forest lover.

“What is your comfort food?” he inquired back, and she beamed at him.

“Muffins.” They both laughed. Before he came up with anything else, feeling oddly naked - literally and figuratively - after their exchange, she moved gracefully until she was pinning him down. He looked up at her, surprised, but she put a finger over his lips, silencing him.

“My turn. What is your favorite position?”

Needless to say, every poor student on the floor heard her squealing as he tickled her and shared with her in extreme detail which position he liked best.

 

* * *

 

 

**_What are you doing tonight?_ **

_I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?_

**_I wouldn’t have pegged you as the kind of girl who enjoyed being told what to do._ **

_I don’t mind you bossing me around ;)_

**_Is that so?_ **

_Yeah. Specially in... ‘close quarters’, if you know what I mean._

**_I doubt that._ **

_Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. Maybe I enjoy surprising you by being... very submissive._

**_...is this Emma Swan’s phone?_ **

_It is._

**_What is your favorite color?_ **

**_What did I tell you to buy the day we first met at the grocery store?_ **

**_Before that._ **

_...some lame cereal?_

**_Aha! Who are you and why are you on Emma’s phone?_ **

_*pout* you’re no fun._

_...Graham?_

**_What the hell did just happen?_ **

_I’m sorry, Ruby stole my phone because I refused to lend her my new shirt. What did she do?_

**_...I don’t think you want to know._ **

_Did she try to sext you?_

**_Pretty much._ **

_*groan* I’m going to kill her. I’m sorry._

**_Oh, I don’t mind._ **

**_I mean, I wouldn’t mind. The sexting I mean. You know._ **

_Do you really want to sext Ruby now._

**_NO! I meant with you._ **

**_God, I’m sorry, forget it._ **

**_Emma._ **

**_Are you mad at me._ **

**_Emma?_ **

She laughed out loud and called him. “I can’t believe you actually sound adorable trying to get me to sext you, just so you know. It must be some dorky superpower of yours.”

He grumbled, which made her laugh harder. “Shut up.”

“I hear that’s not what you want. I hear you want me to tell you naughty things,” she smirked back, dropping her voice to tease him. She bit back another laugh at his groan.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Do you want to or not?”

“Not if you’re gonna laugh about it, or you don’t feel comfortable.”

She plopped back on her bed, her earlier laughter now forgotten, voice turning breathy and low for very different reasons. “I’m not laughing, am I?”

Needless to say, Ruby was banned from their shared room at the ZBZ house for the rest of the day. When Aurora and Mulan asked her what was Emma doing, she just threw her arms in the air, claiming that ‘she had created a monster’.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She followed Graham as he led her to the dart ring hanging on the further side of the Emerald City where, coincidentally, a group of loud fratboys were gathered playing a darts competition. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

He peeked at her over his shoulder. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll turn out to be a sore loser,” she teased, and he put his free hand over his heart.

“Such faith in me.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he tugged on her hand until she was pressed against him and he could peck her. She grinned against his lips, and pulled back to push him towards the ring. There were faces she recognized, of course - she had, one way or another, talked to at least most of the boys in her year from other fraternities, and as pledge educator she remembered most of the pledges’ faces too. Not that she could have a lot of trouble remembering the Kappa Taus and a handful of Omega Chis.

She met Killian’s eyes, who appeared to have been staring at her, and she rose an eyebrow, daring him to say something about her public display of affection with Graham.

He didn’t. Instead, he just waved and stepped towards them. “Hey Swan. Humbert. What’s up?”

She poked Graham’s chest. “My pal, here, wants to play darts with you lot.”

Killian looked at him, surprised. Graham just gave a non-committal shrug in response. “It’s been a while since I’ve played.”

The Kappa Tau president rubbed his hands, smirking. “Then it won’t be that hard to beat you, huh?” He clapped Graham’s shoulder, inviting him to go with the rest of the players. “Come on in and join us.”

Graham grinned, grateful, and went to follow him when he suddenly turned to Emma, a question in his eyes. She shook her head, laughing.

“I’m gonna go with the girls. Be good.”

Killian jumped in, throwing his hands in the air. “What’s the fun in _that_?”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she said, not even bothering to give him the stink eye. She gripped Graham’s tie until his lips pressed against hers softly. “Good luck.”

He grinned, eyes glinting as he looked down at her. “I never miss, I told you.”

Rolling her eyes, she let him go, and in a second, Philip and Jefferson had already taken him under his wing and edging him. She was already searching for her friends to join them when Killian called for her.

“Swan.”

She gave him a warning look. “I’m _not_ gonna kiss you good luck, Jones.”

He looked part amused and part annoyed at her words. “Thanks but that wasn’t actually what I was going to say. Would you mind if Milah stayed with you for a while? I think she gets a bit bored being with just us.”

Her eyebrows flew up in surprise. She looked behind him and, sure enough, Milah was standing amongst the group of rowdy Kappa Taus, and to say she looked a bit overwhelmed was an understatement.

It wasn’t like she didn’t like Milah. She wasn’t overly eager to get to know the girl, even though the few times they had been in the same place and they had gotten to talk she had seemed quite nice and friendly. No wonder Killian had wanted her back.

But seeing her then, she took pity on her. The poor gal needed some estrogen rush.

Looking back at Killian, she nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he said gratefully, and there was a flash of something in his eyes as he looked at her, as if he wanted to capture her face, to keep her there... but it was gone in a second, and she could always blame the beer she had drunk before coming to the bar.

As she had predicted, Milah was truly a sweet, funny and charming girl. Ruby, Mulan, Aurora and Mary Margaret were easily charmed by her, and even Regina begrudgingly complimented her outfit, to Emma’s amusement. Even if at first, Milah kept mostly to Emma’s side, feeling a bit like the outsider, it wasn’t long before she was openly laughing and sharing stories with her friends.

And Emma was amazed to realize that that pang in her chest that came whenever she was around had lessened considerably. Maybe not left altogether, because God knew there would always be some kind of pain when Killian was involved, but she knew that somehow it was slowly healing.

And her medicine apparently had just won the darts competition, from the looks of the sudden round of groans and upbeat screaming coming from the guys group. She shook her head, smiling to herself, and kept talking to her friends.

Not long later, Philip, Jefferson and August came back to their table, joining their conversation, and slowly their quiet group had almost tripled as they started coming and bringing more drinks. Emma almost fell from her stool as a vibrant blue drink appeared in front of her. She followed the hand that had left it there to find Graham grinning down at her.

“What’s this?”

He gave her a straw and added another one on his own glass. “Especially for you. Your color, right?”

Flushing in embarrassment but endeared by his thoughtful present, she kissed him again. “Thank you.”

It was good, to his credit. She kept drinking and talking to Milah and August when Killian joined them, snaking his arms around Milah’s waist. Emma looked down at her glass, slurping from the straw to August’s amusement, until Killian frowned and asked her, “Since when do you drink Bluetropic with your liquor?”

She waved his question away with a slightly shaking hand, pleading for them to stop asking. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s her favorite color,” Graham explained, coming to stand beside her. Killian cocked an eyebrow, and locked his gaze on hers.

Eyes the exact same shade of his drink.

The exact shade that was, indeed, her favorite color.

“Sure.”

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else, but chose to talk to Jefferson, who for once wasn’t shooting murdering looks at Henry’s table on the other side of the room, where he sat with Grace and other pledges.

Ruby hugged her from behind as she came back from the restroom, biting her neck lightly. She ignored Emma’s groan, - she did this everytime they went out, leaving her lipstick mark on everybody she got a hold of, she was territorial that way, - but instead gave her a quizzical look. “Why is your drink blue?”

Oh God. “Can you people let it _go_?”

She just frowned and snatched the drink from Emma’s hand. She inspected it carefully until she told her, “Wow, look: it’s exactly Killian’s eyeshade color.”

Emma hoped to God she was the only one who heard her.

(She wasn’t.)

 

 

* * *

 

_“This is your signature jacket right?” he asked, holding her customary jacket. She snatched it from his grasp, holding it to her chest lovingly._

_“Are you mocking the leather jacket?”_

_He put his hands up in surrender. “Never. Why do you like it so much?”_

_She shrugged, sitting on his bedroom floor and crossing her legs Indian style. “I don’t know. I just do. I look badass in it.”_

_(She really did.)_

_He snorted and sat at her side with his back to the bed and she immediately shifted her position so she was laying her head on his lap. “You could look badass in anything, Swan.”_

_She awwwed, bringing his head closer to hers to leave a kiss on his pouting lips. She lay back once more, using the leather jacket as an improvised blanket._

_“Is it because it’s in your favorite color?”_

_Groaning, she gave him an exasperated look. “Why are you making such a big deal about this?”_

_“Because you won’t tell me your favorite color!”_

_“I told you my former favorite color!”_

_His lips pursed in the most ridiculous pout she had ever seen in her life. “Which was red! Why won’t you tell me?”_

_She smiled, hiding her face under the jacket, only her eyes visible over its hem. “It’s fun to keep you on your toes.”_

_He honest-to-God growled. “Tease.” Tearing the jacket away from her, he leaned down to kiss her again, and she thought to herself that just to see him whine and give her puppy eyes, she would keep to herself how it had been him and his stupid blue eyes that had changed her mind._


	5. Chapter 5

Being with Graham was easy. He made everything easy, and fun, and warm. _He_ was warm. He picked her up after class, took her out to dinner, tagged along when she was out with her friends. She even got to sneak him into the house once, making him wear a fluffy pink robe to disguise himself when he needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. (It had miraculously worked, and she still marveled at that fact. He had claimed it was all him. She had slapped his arm. He had playfully bitten her.) He came over to mixtures, balls, and any other sort of party that them Greeks threw, and somehow found time to help freshmen students in his charge and research for his own project. Henry adored him, her friends constantly made fun of her dreamy eyes whenever he was around or was mentioned, and both the Omega Chis and Kappa Taus got surprisingly well with him.

(It should have annoyed her, that he seemed to be _that_ nice. Surprisingly, it didn’t. It just made her like him even more.)

He had specially bonded with Robin over their shared love of the woods, to Regina and Emma’s amusement. She was so, _so_ happy with him, that she completely forgot her previous ‘situation’ with Killian. It was like nothing had happened, poof, _gone_ : their friendship was completely new, reborn from their ashes - even though she wasn’t sure they had ever been _only_ friends, per se, but whatever. Now, it was working surprisingly well and if she had thought that being with Graham couldn’t make her happier, the fact that she had gained now a healthy friendship with her former boyfriend made her almost burst in contentment.

It hadn’t been weird at all, becoming Killian’s friend. It was almost as easy as being with Graham - without the sex and kissing perks, she guessed. It felt right to call him to join them and bring Milah along, or have game board nights with their friends, or text him whenever she was bored in class so he’d tell her some crazy story and entertain her. (That hadn’t worked so well when she was told off for bursting into giggles in the middle of her lecture.)

That was what friends were for, after all. Right?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“We’re gonna be late,” she whined as they got out of the car. Graham shushed her, taking her hand in his and dragging her towards the entrance.

“No we’re not.”

She counted the people before them waiting to buy their own tickets. “But we need to buy the popcorn!”

“We’ll do that when we’re inside, don’t worry,” he promised her, and she bit her lip worriedly.

“But we’ll miss the trailers!”

Graham stared at her bemusedly, arching an eyebrow in question. “...so?”

“We can’t miss the trailers!”

She had so much work to do with him still. So much to teach him.

He put his hands over her shoulders in an attempt to soothe her, rubbing small circles over her collarbones. “Emma, calm down.” At that moment, something vibrated in her pocket, and she jumped against her will. Smiling apologetically at him, she fished her phone from the back of her jeans. “What is it?” he asked. She asked for him to wait with a wave of her hand until the text opened.

**_Hey. You guys downtown? Milah and I are at TEC._ **

“Just - Jones. He wants to know what we’re up to.”

He hummed under his breath. “Does he want to come? We can buy their tickets.”

She shrugged, thinking that the movie choice was up the Kappa Tau president alright, already typing a response.

_We’re at the movies. Wanna join?_

**_What time does it start?_ **

_5min_

**_Nah, we’d miss the trailers._ **

Shaking her head as she tried to hide a smile, she put her phone back in her pocket. When she looked back at Graham, he was staring at her expectantly. “So?”

“Nope. It’s just you and me tonight.”

The corner of his lips tipped in a smile, and his body swayed slowly until his chest was brushing hers, inching closer until he put his mouth near her ear. “Pity that.”

“And all the fun we can have in the back row?” she mused aloud, and he bit the tip of her ear, ignoring her squeal.

“You are one enchanting temptress, Miss Swan.” With one soft push towards the entrance, he gave her their tickets. “I’ll get your popcorn while you watch your trailers.”

She kissed him quickly, smile wide and happy and silly as she ran towards the “Thank you.”

Later, as the trailers came, she got another text and she quickly picked up her phone, chastising herself for not remembering to turn it off.

**_Fill me in about the trailers when you get out._ **

_Nope. You should have come._

**_But I never miss the trailers._ **

_I know._

**_You suck._ **

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jefferson clapped his hands together, setting his cup down and calling for everybody’s attention. “Okay, who’s next?”

“It’s Swan’s turn,” Victor claimed, balancing Ruby over his lap as they sat on the futon they had insisted on occupying when they arrived at the KT house. They had ignored Killian’s warning about getting a brand new one in case they broke it - the thing looked suspiciously about to collapse just by holding one person, she didn’t want to imagine what could happen when two people sat on it.

For now, it was holding on.

( _Now_ being the key word here.)

Emma tried to hide behind the blow up doll someone had given August for his birthday as a gift, appropriately called Anna. “No.”

“ _Yes_. Go on,” Aurora insisted, kicking her with her foot from the other side of the couch. Milah and Mulan followed her lead, and soon they were all trying to reach her in the best way they could, and she groaned, vexed.

Graham put an arm comfortably around her shoulders, encouragingly bumping his nose to hers. “Why don’t you want to go?”

Burrowing her face in his shoulder, she tried not to blush too much or they’d all get a kick out of her again. “I’m just lame at this.”

Ruby snorted. “In your defense, I’ll say that you’re lame at most things.”

“Fuck you,” she muttered back without a second thought. Graham chuckled along with the rest, planting a kiss over the top of her head, and she felt a sliver of relief.

But of course it had only just got started. Philip suddenly guffawed loudly, clapping his hand over his chest in-between chortles and calling for his brothers’ attention.

“Remember that time we tried playing Pictionary? I’m still trying to figure out what that thing was.”

She growled, staring daggers at them. “It was supposed to be a _bagel_.”

Ignoring the chorus of laughter around her, she rolled her eyes because seriously, it hadn’t been that bad - they had all just been drunk and of course nobody got her pretty decent drawing. Jefferson chuckled, patting her head commiseratively as he walked behind her to sit back on the couch armrest. “You failed so hard.”

“She’s not _that_ bad,” Killian said, and she shot him a grateful smile.

August shook his head, pointing first at Killian and then at her with something akin to awe in his expression. “Yeah, because you two share a brain or something. It’s spooky how you got what she meant when nobody else did.”

He shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows at her and looking stupidly chipper. “What can I say. Cool people think alike.”

“Damn right,” she agreed, holding his cup out to clink with his. He studied her quietly, smiling over the rim of his glass as they both drank, and she felt warm all over, making a quick note to herself to thank him later privately. He knew how the making-fun-of-Emma moments affected her at times.

An iPhone was unexpectedly thrust into her hands, the game app they had been playing for the night already open and waiting for her to set going. With a conceding and extremely defeated sigh, she stood up, leaving her cup in Graham’s care with a fond peck and a warning for him not to drink it in her absence. The group wooted at her as she made her way to the front of the room so everybody could see her - she had to play whatever it was that the game said, and she was pretty sure she’d need space just in case.

With a silent prayer for the app to be gentle on her, she pressed ‘Start’, belatedly realizing that they were playing the ‘Movies’ category.

_Oh fuck._

“Oh man.”

Jefferson leaned over his seat; hand over his own phone to control the chronometer.  Why were these games so freaking anxiety-driving? “Ready?”

She nodded as she bounced lightly on her feet, mind whirring as she tried to think what the hell she could do to let them know the answer. The monkeys? The monsoon? The drumming of the game? Robin Williams?

“Okay... go!”

...and she froze, still reeling and trying to think of every stupid detail she could come up with about the movie she had loved so much since she was a kid. Before she could acknowledge what she was doing, her hand had started making a pumping notion in front of her, and she almost fell to the floor in hysterics at the way they were all arching her eyebrows at her in silent bemusement. 

Of course when you try mimicking throwing a dice your friends believe you’re jerking somebody off.

Before she could glare at them - or join their laughing - Killian shot to his feet, pointing at her with a triumphant look. “JUMANJI!”

“YES!” She threw her arms in the air and he crowed as the rest of their friends groaned in unison. Laughing hysterically, she met him as he hugged her to his side and they both high fived, trying to talk over the other as they cheered their win.

August snorted, bumping Graham’s shoulder with an eye roll. “I told you. They’re so weird.”

(In the end, the futon broke. Victor and Ruby promised to buy a new one.)

 

* * *

 

 

She stifled a scream when there was a knock on her window. Approaching it with quiet footsteps, she breathed out in relieve once she recognized Killian’s stupid smirk on the other side of the windowpane. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He humphed as he jumped over the sill, careful not to drop a brown paper bag in his hand and looking extremely happy with himself as soon as he was inside his room. “I was around and thought to pay you a visit.”

“What are you _really_ doing here?”

“Why? Am I interrupting any special plans?”

“As a matter of fact, _yes_.”

He grinned, jerking his chin in her direction. “Liar. You’ve got your stay-in outfit on.”

(She chanced a peek at herself, ignoring his poignant look. Ratty baseball t-shirt, shorts.) (Fuck him.)

She tried not to roll her eyes, she really did because it was her free day and she was indeed in her stay-in outfit and she really didn’t need him to show up and just barge in to mess it up. She put her hands over her hips, staring him down. “Did you just come over to annoy me?”

Ignoring her, he started inspecting every picture and random item adorning her bedroom. “Where’s Humbert? No hot date tonight?”

She followed behind him, slightly annoyed and putting everything he touched in its rightful place and fighting the urge to slap his hands away from her trinkets and jewelry. “I didn’t feel like going out so we’re meeting for lunch tomorrow instead.”

At the way she said it, he finally stopped his inspection and gave her a long, measured look. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, as if by doing so she could stop him from analyzing her. Emma managed not to fidget under his intense scrutiny.

“I see.” He held out the brown paper bag to her, oddly timid all of a sudden. “I brought you something.”

Snatching it from his fingers with an eye roll - because seriously, why did he have to bring her anything at all? - and opened it. There was a packet of chocolate muffins - her favorite brand - and a DVD case. She took it out and stifled a gasp at the cover.

Love Actually.

(Memories of conversations years ago - _‘It’s the best pick me up movie of all time’ ‘Of course you’d say that - you’re a girl’ ‘You loved it’ ‘I love you, not a movie’_ \- took form behind her eyes, and she had to breathe in slowly not to sway on her feet.)

She stared at him for a long while, something between disbelief and gratitude flashing in her eyes. “Killian - why...?”

He shuffled the tip of his shoe on her carpet, and she bit her lip considering him. He shrugged, trying to appear casual with that boyish quality that he somehow managed to display. “I thought it’d cheer you up.”

There was a pang in her heart, quick and sharp, and the ache lingered more than it should, especially after all this time, because he had remembered. She had suspected he did, but seeing it firsthand was a whole different story.

She’d been a hopeful girl once, who had believed that her parents would knock on her door with promises of never letting her go again and an explanation of why they hadn’t been there, of why they had let her go. Something that would make it all go away.

Before that, she’d had notions that, even if her real parents never did show up, somebody else would want her and keep her, seeing her for who she truly was and accepting her.

But that girl had grown up, and even if she had accepted all that she’d gone through and how it had shaped the woman she now was, it still hurt.

And so, every anniversary of the day the Swan’s gave her up, she remembered.

And so he had remembered of her annual ritual too.

Hugging the muffins to her chest and the DVD case clutched in her hand, she blinked up at him, trying to keep a tear at bay. “Thank you.”

They shared a long, soft look, and she knew he was thinking back of the time when she had tried to explain to him why that very same day she needed to be alone and didn’t want to see anybody and had to do this. She also knew he was reminiscing of the way he had set his foot down and instead showed up and gave her chocolate before leaving, with a soft ‘you don’t need to do it all alone anymore, you know’.

“Don’t mention it,” he said softly. Then, he cleared his throat, scratching the back of his ear nervously. “Anyway, I’ll be going now before the kids get rowdy without their captain.”

She choked back a laugh, trying not to sound so exasperated. “It will never stuck, get over it.”

He rose an eyebrow, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips and making his eyes glint in the dark. “We’ll see.” With a last wave, he walked back to the window and started to hoist himself over it, leg dangling over and awkwardly trying to avoid their frilly curtains (Regina’s idea, not hers.) She bit her lip trying to hide a laugh, but at one look at the purposeful set of his shoulders and the way the hair at the back of his head stuck up after he had ruffled it earlier made her go over and set a hand over his arm, halting him.

“Hey.” He turned his head to stare inquisitively at her, and she clamped down the urge to shrink back from him. Every instinct in her body told her it was a Very Bad Idea, but another part of her - and no, it was most definitely not her heart, - screamed at her to do it. “Do you wanna watch it? Ruby is at Victor’s and I could use the company for a bit.”

He stood motionless, one leg still inside and the other precariously balanced outside, considering her words, her offer, her stay-in outfit, _her_. As she had always been to him, she supposed. “As you wish,” he accepted eventually, and she smiled.

...And had to finally help him in when he mentioned that he was dangerously close to ‘losing his manly bits there’.

(An hour and a half later, Emma had to stop the movie to calm herself from laughing once she realized Killian was trying to hold back a tear at Emma Thompson crying with Joni Mitchell in the background.) ( _‘I knew you loved it!’ ‘Shut up, Swan.’_ )

 

* * *

****

 

There were a lot of things that she did concerning Killian that she didn’t really give half mind about.

She didn’t give it a second thought when she said his name when she was asked who was the person who made her laugh the most. She didn’t think it was a big deal to propose going to see the KTs when they were bored, or to call them to come over and hang out.

She didn’t see a problem when Killian told her he had thought of her because of something he had heard. Or when he stepped out of some party to smoke a cigarette and she somehow found herself alone with him, listening to his silly stories and punching his arm when he teased her.

She might not have noticed all of these things that she did concerning Killian, but Graham did.

 

* * *

 

 

 

She could see the way his lips moved, or how his accent wrapped around the words that he said, but for the love of God, she couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“You’re  _leaving_?” 

Graham sighed, scrubbing his face tiredly with his hand. “I’m afraid so.”

She sat, propping herself up against the bench, completely shaken. This couldn’t be happening - not again. It was like all those times that she hadn’t been enough for any family she was bounced to: the self-consciousness, the pain, the loss. 

Blinking back tears, she sniffed quietly. “Why?” 

Graham sat at her side and put an arm around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him. She thought about cringing away from him, but it was  _Graham_ , and he was warm, and his heart beat reassuringly against her ear as she furrowed his face on his chest. He was home.

Or had been.

“It is an amazing opportunity, Emma. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t take it.” 

She clenched her eyes shut, her fingers gripping the hem of his shirt as if she could physically hold him to her and never let him go. She didn’t want to let him go.

She didn’t want him to go.

“But when will you be back?” 

There was a puff of warm breath on the top of her head, the heavy smell of coffee and sugar dizzying her. “It’s for a year.” 

She froze. A year. A year without him. Graham knew of her abandonment issues, knew that, given both choices, she would be broken if he preferred to go before staying with her, not even having talked to her about it and asking for her blessing to leave. 

She was torn. She felt torn beyond repair. 

“But...” 

He put a finger under her chin and tapped until she could stare at him, gazes clashing. Green on hazel, teary on sad, broken on broken. “Emma, look at me. I wouldn’t go if circumstances were different.” 

If it were someone else, she’d have snorted and left before hearing any excuse. Instead, she bit her lip. “Such as?” 

“Such as you not being in love with somebody else.” 

She could feel the blood leaving her face, and she silently acknowledged that, had she been on her feet, she’d have swayed and maybe probably fainted. Maybe that was why he had suggested sitting. 

She was drifting and she knew it, yet she didn’t know how to stop. 

“I...” she started, trying not to panic, but he put a hand on her shoulder, cutting her off gently.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, or be cruel, or blame you at all. It’s just a fact.”

She inhaled deeply. As calmly as she could, she locked her gaze on his. “You’re wrong.” 

He gave her a look. “Am I?” 

Mouth hanging open, he waited for her to deny it, to say anything, to scream at him, to yell at him, to curse him into oblivion. 

She did neither of those things.

She and Graham had always valued honesty since they started dating, - she had told him about her upbringing, about Neal, and of course, about Killian. She had openly talked about her past.

She hadn’t wasted that much time pondering about her present. She had just let herself feel, and be, and being with Graham had been what she had needed.

But maybe, as he was implying, it hadn’t been what she had truly wanted.

She held onto the main reason when faced with this problem.

“But I love you.” 

He closed his eyes, as if the words had hurt him, slashing at his skin and leaving a bloody mark. Tipping his forehead to hers, his fingers traced decadently the lines on her face. “And I love you, believe me. But I wish I was what he is to you.” 

She gripped his hand in hers, stopping his slow patterns on her skin, and stammered nervously, “You could be. I - I can stop it. I can move on, I promise.” 

She told herself that she  _truly_  could do that - could send away the fluttering of her heart whenever  _he_  was around, or when they shared a smile or a pointed look, when he brushed past her and their skin touched and tingled. 

She wanted it more than  _anything_. 

The pity on his face nearly did her in. Any other time she’d have hated the thought of someone pitying her - she didn’t  _want_  anybody’s pity, she was proud enough to admit that. But this was Graham. Sweet, honest, confident Graham. Her friend, her lover, her boyfriend, and the person she turned to - or not always, if she was honest with herself. 

Damn everything.

He exhaled slowly. “Maybe, but I doubt it.” 

“Why?” she whined in a barely heard whisper. His smile was sad and reserved as he looked at her.  

“Because there’s  _no way_  in hell that that guy isn’t in love with you.” 

She wanted to say something, but he had rendered her speechless. Not only had he assured her that she had feelings for someone else, but that that someone else reciprocated them back. 

In one of the lame fairytales books that Henry used to read when he was younger, that would be proof enough of those two people being together. In real life - in college, it was all one big fat soap opera that she just wished she could turn off. 

Graham took her hand in his, tapping her knuckles with his thumb distractedly. “I’m sorry Emma. I need to give myself a chance.” At that, she couldn’t stop the first tear to fall, because he was so right. He didn’t deserve to be with someone who wouldn’t have him first and foremost. He didn’t deserve to share that special place in her heart. 

Noticing her silent crying, he sighed again and held out his arms. “Come here.” Without a word, she followed his directions until she was sitting on his lap, cheek resting on his shoulder and letting her hair hide her flushed face as she sobbed as quietly as she could. He kissed her temple, and the tender gesture only made her cry harder. 

“I don’t regret a thing. I’ve never been happier with someone than when I’ve been with you.”

She tried to speak between hiccups, and she heard him chuckle softly at her efforts. “I don’t want you to go.” 

He held her tighter against his chest, and her arms went around his neck, her fingers gripping the curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’ll write to you, I promise.” 

He pulled her back so he could look her in the eyes. He left a tiny kiss over the tip of her nose, and she closed her eyes. “Please, don’t cry,” he begged her, and she tried to breathe through her nose, attempting to calm herself. Freeing her hand from the back of his neck, she wiped at her face, sniffing non-stop.

“Do I look awful?” 

“You never could look awful.” 

The idiot wasn’t even  _lying_ , and she choked back another sob. Why was he so perfect and still this was happening?

“Even with my face smeared with chocolate?” 

He shook his head, his lips curling into a fond smile. “Not even then.” 

 

* * *

 

 

She tried not to think too much about what the stain on the wall might be. That had been her trick through her long relationship with the guys from Kappa Tau where their hole in the ground was concerned: don’t ask, don’t cry.

It wasn’t like she wanted to be here, in  _his_  house. It felt like stepping in enemy territory. Well, not enemy per se; neither hostile. Just... potentially hurtful. 

For her, at least. 

She had been looking for Henry, actually - because that was what she did: when she was upset, or feeling down, or needed somebody, it was okay to have her friends, of course. But for the longest time, it had been her and Henry against the world. She wouldn’t admit to anybody that she was so desperate for her little brother’ company instead of her sisters’ more cliché breakup routine of eating chunks of ice cream from the bowl and watching Love Actually, but the truth was that she was. In other circumstances, she could have called Killian to cheer her up, but alas, that was not in the cards at the moment. 

She had already been to Henry’s dorm, where the girl living opposite his room had told her she thought he was hanging out with his brothers at the KT house. Emma had gone looking for him here mostly because she had made sure  _he_  wouldn’t be there. 

(She knew he had class that morning, so her anxiety level wasn’t as out of control as it could have been if she had chance running into him, she guessed. Small mercies and all.) 

She trudged along the hall, silently amazed at how silent everything was - minus a feminine giggle coming from one of the rooms - well, at least someone  _was_  getting some, she thought to herself sourly - until she got to one of Henry’s friend’s room, Hansel, and she knocked. 

She huffed, because  _of course_  it wouldn’t be that easy, and she knocked harder. No answer again. She kept knocking to the point that her knuckles were getting sore and swollen until she heard a buzz coming from her backpack. Taking out her phone from the smaller pocket, she saw she had gotten a text from Henry, apologizing for not having answered earlier and informing her that he was with Roland watching a game near his dorm. She shut her eyes closed, willing herself not to break down for the simple fact that she ached to be held by her brother but couldn’t because he was out having fun with his friend - his  _very_  Omega Chi pledge friend, younger Robin’s brother friend, and dimple-smiling adorable friend. 

She couldn’t help but feel stupidly lonely no matter what she did. And she wanted to see Henry so bad.

A loud bang made her jump and she almost passed out due to sheer despair when she saw Killian exiting his own room, hair in complete disarray, clad only in his boxer-briefs and annoyance written all over his face. As soon as he realized it was her standing there, though, he blinked in surprise. “Swan? What are you doing here? I was about to bite someone’s head off for that incessant knocking!”

She inhaled sharply.  _Fuck_ , just her luck. “Sorry, that was me. They told me Henry was here and I need him. I...” She stopped herself, embarrassed. He really didn’t need to know how messed up she was at the moment. She didn’t really need him to know. 

She didn’t  _want_  him to know.

Dropping her eyes, she added, “I didn’t think anybody would be here. Sorry.” 

“I skipped class,” he told her with a sheepish grin. “It’s a total bore, and my teacher wears a monocle. A  _monocle_ , Swan.” 

She  _hated_  the half smile that was already curling her lips. Freaking idiot. She  _hated_  that he managed to make her laugh even when her skin crawled in its need to run out of there as soon as possible. 

“Killian?”

They turned to find Milah, hiding her body with Killian’s Superman-themed sheets, and confusedly waved at Emma, cheeks reddening in self-consciousness. “Oh, hey Emma.”

“When I said ‘I missed class’ I actually meant ‘pleasuring my lady’, of course,” he said with a mischievous grin. Emma patted herself on the back for managing not to grimace too badly, almost missing Milah’s indignant slap to Killian’s arm.

“What? It’s not like it’s a secret.” His eyes glinted in amusement looking at Emma, probably expecting one of her usual remarks, sparking their neverending bantering. At her stricken face, he frowned. “Emma?”

She stepped back from them, cursing inwardly when she almost sprained her ankle as she tripped over a lego - these guys were in college but they played with legos was this a freaking  _joke_  or what - on the floor. “I - I need to go. I need to talk to Henry.”

“Is he okay?”

Why did he have to  _care_  at all? Why did he have to be so... so... 

“Yeah, he’s fine, don’t worry,” she croaked, waving half-heartedly without making eye-contact as she almost ran to the stairs.

“Are you?”

She acted as though she hadn’t heard him, stomping down the stairs viciously to drown out his question, even though it rang in her ears for the rest of the day.

No, of course she wasn’t. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

She wished she had stopped to think about storing something apart from a packet of Skittles in her bedside table. Not that she was really hungry, but if she wanted her plan of avoiding practically every single soul living in her house to actually work, she’d have to stoke her room before continuing with her isolation plans. 

Ruby had known the first night after her breakup with Graham that she’d want to be alone, so she had silently put some things in a bag and stayed at Victor’s. That had been two days ago, but Emma had refused to answer her texts inquiring about her and if she wanted her to come back and eat chocolate and watch lame movies on her laptop. 

She didn’t want to see anybody. She didn’t want to talk, to admit how she had ruined yet  _another_  good thing that she had had.

She didn’t want to explain why Graham had left. 

Mary Margaret, Aurora and Mulan had tried to talk to her, but most surprising of all had been Regina’s voice quietly shushing them all and telling them that they should let her be and she’d come out when she was ready. Emma had been grateful for that quiet understanding - she remembered the stories Mary Margaret had told her about Regina’s first boyfriend and the wreck that she became once he passed. The thing was, Emma’s boyfriend hadn’t died (thank God), nor had he cheated on her (thank God again). 

He just deserved better than her.

So she holed herself up in her room, curled up in a ball and held the stuffed wolf that she had gotten him at a store in town - she had seen the delight on his face when he picked it up, and she had ignored his protests when he realized she intended to buy it. When he explained to her that it wasn’t very manly to own stuffed animals at his ripe age, they had agreed on her keeping it, as if it were their own pet. 

He had asked her to keep it too.

She was startled from her reverie when she heard a crackling sound out of her window. Wiping dried tears from her face, she tip toed to where she thought the source of the sound had come, wondering if she should pick up her lamp in case she needed to hit something - or someone. 

Just her luck: first she broke up with her boyfriend, now somebody appeared to be trying to smuggle **_(into?)_** her room.

Making her way to the open window as quietly as she could, she screeched as a tiny figure appeared on the windowsill. Hand clutching her chest frantically, she squinted her eyes and cursed under her breath when another figure showed up at its partner. She tried to suppress an eyeroll as the rest of them followed - until she counted six of them. 

Of course she recognized the dolls. They were Mary Margaret’s - had a collection of them perfectly sitting on a shelf in her room; they had been a gift from her mother, who had shared her enthusiasm over dolls. 

What she had no idea was why they were currently perched at her windowsill.

There seemed to be a lot of shushing and maybe some tripping if the noise coming from the balcony was to be trusted. She waited patiently, making up excuses in her mind to let them know that, as much as she appreciated their efforts, she still wanted to be alone. She didn’t have that much time to come up with many of them, one blond doll appearing in front of the rest as a throat cleared loudly outside.

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Emma.”

Emma tried not to crack a smile when she heard Mulan’s soft voice muttering. “How subtle.”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Ruby threatened. The doll’s blond locks swayed in the air as she paced her windowsill, and the rest of her companions circled her awkwardly. “She lived in a faraway kingdom with a group of trusted maids.” 

“Who were as hot as the princess, mind you.”

“One of them even was  _queen_ ,” another voice remarked. Regina, if she had to bet on anything. 

There was a snort, and Tamara’s voice piped up. “Promoting yourself from maid to queen. You just can’t stand not being the center of attention, can you?” 

There was a slapping sound and a loud ‘ouch’, and by now she was biting her lip in an attempt not to burst out laughing. “As I was saying, even with such beauty, the princess got let down by several of her suitors, who one by one turned into frogs,” Ruby continued, and Emma’s earlier amusement flew out of the window. There was a pregnant pause, and one of the dolls - with auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes - moved to stand beside the blond doll.  

“One of them even slept with one of the princess’ maids.”

The dark-skinned one huffed and joined them. “But the maid didn’t know he was with her princess, but everything turned out alright and now they’re together.”

“ _SHUT UP._ ” All of them chorused, and one by one they circled the doll that Emma was supposed to be. She sat at her bed, taking in the little number her friends had put together just to make her laugh, and shook, trying to reign in her emotions. Ruby’s head popped up behind her own doll. “The princess was terribly sad - as she should be, because even if she didn’t admit it, she had always craved love in her life after having it denied for so long.” 

Emma closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose and fearing the crying part of the evening wasn’t really over. “Guys...”

One by one, Aurora, Mulan, Regina, Tamara and Mary Margaret’s heads surrounded Ruby, and Emma silently wondered how they were managing to fit in the tiny balcony. 

“But, until her prince charming shows up, she won’t be alone,” Mary Margaret promised adamantly, and Regina shook her head. 

“She’ll never be.”

“And her maids ** _’_** love can be enough or  _way_  better than some frog’s,” Mulan assured her, and Aurora nodded vigorously as the rest of them laughed. Tamara waved her arm and made her doll bow exaggeratedly. 

“The end.”

She should have known better that her time isolated inside the four walls of her room wouldn’t last long, with friends like these. She took in their worried faces, and the trepidation in their features, probably fearing that she would kick them out, shut them out, ignore their offers at comfort. She had been that person, more than once. 

But, as she had come to realize, she didn’t have to be. 

“Come in, you nerds,”she choked, grimacing at the strangled noise that was supposed to be her voice. They didn’t wait on ceremony, climbing through the window - which proved to be difficult enough while wearing high heels, as Regina and Tamara noticed, - and jumping to hug her. She ‘oofed’ in discomfort at the added weight but patted her friends’ heads as they all laid with her, trying to fit in her bed. A hand rose in the air, holding a creaking packet and waving it victoriously.  

“We brought popcorn.”

Emma laughed. “Women after my own heart!”

What was that that her mother had told her once? ‘Men come and go, but good friends stay forever.’

 

* * *

 

 

Well, that had been one boring class alright.

Funny, how when you were going through a rough patch in life the things that you hadn’t minded at all before suddenly ticked you off. She realized she was being kind of abrasive as of late whenever her pledges asked her things, or her mind was just not into it when she tried to focus and read whatever it was that the professor had asked for their next lesson. 

She wasn’t being herself, plain and simple. She was out of it, and she knew it - everybody who knew her knew it, damn it - and she wanted nothing more than to make it stop, but at the same time she wanted to have time to herself and to whine and to cry and to be angry at the world and punch Killian Jones in the face for basically being the source of all of her problems.

(For apparently being the solution to all of her problems too.)

After slipping out of the class, she took a detour on the hallway and decided that she was in no mood to take the stairs, - she didn’t want to risk running into anybody, - so she turned towards the hallway that led to the elevator. As soon as she did, she heard the ding of the door closing, and she picked up her pace. “Hold the door, please!”

Thankfully, whoever was inside heard her, and she ran the last few feet until she was almost there. As soon as the door was completely open, she froze.

Karma was definitely out to get her, she thought bitterly as she took Killian and Milah in. Killian’s face lit up as he saw her, while Milah sheepishly tried to make her hair not look so mussed. And failing horribly.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they had been up to. 

(She remembered quite well how fond Killian was of elevator make outs, after all.)

Shaking her head, she stepped back and out to the hall once more, minding herself with her bag. “You know what, I’ll wait for the next one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Swan,” Killian said, following her and gripping her arm, dragging her inside.

“Really, it’s OK.” He ignored her protests, letting go of her arm when he was sure that she wouldn’t flee again. (And oh, she wanted to  _so bad_.) 

“You can join us if you want to.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she automatically scowled.

“I really mean it, I’ll just get the next...” 

“Emma!” 

“Oh, God,” she groaned. Tamara’s heels clicked against the linoleum in quick succession as she almost ran into her, following her inside the elevator - which looked stupidly tiny all of a sudden, - and she gave her a concerned look, putting a hand over her shoulder. 

“Are you okay? I saw you leaving the class early and followed you just in case you...” At Emma’s flushed face - her little sister  _really_  needed to shut up, pronto, she didn’t want Killian and Milah of all people to hear about her not-so-merry last weeks - Tamara looked behind them, noticing their companions for the first time. She met Emma’s eyes with understanding and turned to wave sheepishly at them. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hello,” Killian greeted politely, even though his eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at Emma.

Fuck him and his picking up on everything. 

Luckily, before he could ask what Tamara meant about her leaving class early, someone else’s hurried footsteps echoed in the hallways. “Hold the door.”

Emma actually whimpered as Neal jogged to catch up with them. “Jesus fucking Christ, these doors are the slowest thing in the  _entire world_.”

Neal smiled fondly at Tamara as he stepped inside the elevator, the doors closing behind him - fucking  _finally_. “Hi babe,” he pecked her quietly on the lips, leaving another kiss on her hair. Emma made a face - she didn’t really remember him being that affectionate with her, but whatever - and Killian cleared his throat uncomfortably at the display in front of them. Only then did Neal notice that they were, indeed not alone. “Oh.”

Milah shifted on her feet, giggling nervously. “Oh indeed.”

Emma begged for someone to shoot her, please.

It had to possibly be the most embarrassing, uncomfortable elevator ride in her entire life. She tried to keep her eyes on her boots, silently chastising herself for not cleaning them that morning, but she noticed how Milah and Tamara exchanged subtle glances at each other - they were kind of political family, after all. She could also see the tiny smirk that Killian kept throwing Neal over her head, smugness oozing out of him in waves as the idiot that he was, and Neal’s knuckles cracked almost imperceptibly when he curled his hand into a fist. 

She also could feel Killian’s eyes on the back of her head, but she didn’t dare meet his gaze, not knowing what he’d see in them. 

(Anger. Embarrassment. Loss. Longing. Confusion. Regret. Pain.)

Tapping her finger loudly against her wrist, Milah chuckled quietly. “The family tree in here is fun alright, huh?” She pointed her finger at Neal, “You and Emma were together, then you slept with Tamara and you’re together now; you and Killian were friends and you are my cousin, but I’m dating him, while he previously dated Emma...” she said, waving her hand to point at Tamara and her when she mentioned them. 

Someone please please,  _please_  shoot her, now. 

“We get it, Milah,” Killian drawled, giving his girlfriend a significant look. To Emma’s surprise, he turned apologetic eyes towards her, but she ignored him, focusing once more on her boots and praying for the stupid elevator to get to their floor already. 

Milah put up her hands in surrender, leaning against the wall for effect. “Just trying to diffuse some tension.”

The doors dinged and Emma whimpered under her breath in relief. She swore to never ride this thing if her life depended on it. To her neverending misfortune, Victor was outside, waiting to get in, and as soon as the doors opened and he saw all of them inside, - his eyebrows flying up his hairline as he noticed even  _Neal_  was there - he cracked up. “I bet you wished you had taken the stairs, huh?” he told Killian as he entered, clapping him in the shoulder. The Kappa Tau president just sighed, following Neal and Tamara with his eyes as they stepped out without another word. 

“I’m just waiting for someone to join and make it even more awkward. Humbert will have to do,” he said, but frowned as soon as he said it. Emma gripped her bag tighter to her side, maneuvering herself outside of the elevator before she was forced to keep talking to them. “Where’s he, by the way?” he asked loudly, and Emma held her head, not turning back to look at him, but walking away instead.

“He’s gone,” she said, and could hear the ding behind her as the doors closed.

  

* * *

 

 

Emma was pretty sure her reputation on campus was slowly deteriorating to a degree she was afraid to even consider. Especially seeing as she kept angrily muttering to herself while she walked back and forth in front of the front door of the main building in campus where she went to class. 

Where she had forgotten her folder with her notes from said class and that she, coincidentally, needed to finish her project.

Which was, coincidentally, due the next morning. 

One would think she’d have kept a copy of her notes on her laptop, but she was a weirdo that way and preferred to take notes à la old school, and even if most times she did type them days later once she had made sense of the whole thing, these past weeks she had been rather slacking and too consumed by drama so she had forgotten, trusting on her goddamned notes that she had forgotten. She usually used the handwritten sheets for her projects, where she jotted down ideas and doodled nonsense on the margins and  _why did everything have to be total and utter crap in her life?_  

It wasn’t like she could wait until they opened at 6 AM, because she actually needed her notes to finish it.

All in all, she was completely screwed. 

“For fuck’s sake - I can’t believe this is actually happening to me,” she muttered for the twentieth time, as she alternated between pacing before the door, - hoping that maybe some janitor would walk by and let her in after the customary begging from her part took place, - and angrily jerking at the door in the hopes that it’d somehow magically open.

Neither of her courses of action had been very successful, so far.

Biting back a scream, she sagged against the wall, forehead falling over her knees as she slipped down until she was sitting on the floor, still with no idea what to do. The promise of spending the night there was starting to sound like the only option left for her, sadly.

What was her life anymore. 

“Swan?”

She screwed her eyes shut, fingers clenching on her jeans. “Are you  _kidding_  me?”

Killian approached her, the corner of his lips curling as he took her in - and why wouldn’t he? She must look like a mess, by all means. As he came closer, the glint of amusement from his first inspection of her fled, and his face turned concerned. “What’s wrong?”

‘Of all people’ was starting to sound like her life’s motto, these days. There was no way it was coincidental, how many times she ran into him. Waving a hand tiredly, she dismissed him quickly. “Go away, Jones.”

“Not until you tell me what is going on,” he insisted, stepping up to her until the tips of his shoes came into view, touching her boots - still dirty. Damn it.

“It is none of your business-,” she started, but he cut her.

“Emma.”

There was a firmness in his tone that unsettled her, and she jerked her head back to stare up at him. 

Her first thought was that he looked  _good_.

Her second thought was that he looked  _damn good_  and she hated that she  _noticed_  that he looked damn good.

Her third thought was that he looked... meticulously good, which wasn’t usual: he had dressed up quite nicely, and the guy cleaned up well, to be fair. Killian was attractive - and oh, did he know it, - but had never been vain, nor did he use his looks purposely in order to get girls. He got girls effortlessly; they threw themselves at him because he was  _the_  Killian Jones and he was charming, and witty, and yes, hot. But he had never been one to clean up, so she just gaped at him for a moment.

Her next thoughts jumbled together but had one thing in common: they were tinted in red, anger and panic and rage slipping from her in waves. She gritted her teeth, fire in her eyes as she glared at him, noticing with glee how he took one step back.

“Don’t you have things to do? A girlfriend to bang? A party to throw? Why do you even  _care_?”

His expression softened, and he crouched in front of her, staring at her levelly. “Of course I care.”

She bit her tongue, swallowing all the feelings that simple promise stirred inside of her, and all of the things she wanted to answer back.

_I care about you too._

_Caring about you made Graham leave._

_I wish I could stop myself from caring about you._

_You shouldn’t care about me._

_Please care about me like you used to._

Instead, she steeled herself, firmly promising herself she wouldn’t let him find out what he had unleashed with such a simple line. “Then don’t.”

He looked extremely taken aback, as if she had slapped him (which she was finding more and more appealing by the second). Ignoring his presence altogether, she dusted off her jeans and stood up, leaving him in his previous position and going to stand before the door again, hoping that he’d take the hint and just leave her alone. She tried the door once more, huffing under her breath at her unsuccessful attempt, and kicked it quietly, trying not to gain his attention just in case.

Her mind still warring with the possibilities - could she call her professor and explain her dilemma? The school faculty?  _Obama_? - she had practically forgotten that Killian had been there, thinking that he had left wherever it was that he was headed. 

(She was lying. She hadn’t forgotten he was there. She could feel him behind her, looking at her, trying to decipher her, pick up her thoughts and what she refused to say and what she hid behind her wall.)

He walked towards her until he was standing by her side, facing the doors. “You know, I  _may_  have a copy of the janitor keys to the building in case you needed to get in so badly.”

She inhaled sharply. There it was, an answer to all of her prayers - or at least those induced by this misfortunate problem of hers - and of course it was freaking Killian Jones who offered it to her. 

Why did the world hate her?

What was she supposed to do? She didn’t want his help - she didn’t want him to swoop in and save her, like some damn knight on a white horse or whatever. She didn’t need to add anything to the neverending list of things that he had done for her, the stuff that she cherished and carefully guarded in a corner of her heart. 

She didn’t need this.

Worst of all, she was proud as fuck and she didn’t want to ask for his help, no matter how desperate she was.

So she stood there in silence, not looking at him, as if he hadn’t spoken and wondering how long until he decided she was an ungrateful bitch and that she could go fuck herself.

The thing was... Killian knew her. And he knew she would never ask for his help, especially now that he had picked up on her more than skittish behavior whenever they happened to be in the same room together.

He sighed, shaking his head and sweeping his arm before them invitingly. “Come on, we’ll go grab them.”

 

An hour later, they had slipped inside the building and he had followed her up to her class in spite of her vehemently begging him to leave her alone and her assuring him that she  could do fine by herself, thank you very much. She had just rolled her eyes and ignored him as he stoically gave her a look, reminding her that thanks to him they had been able to get in in the first place. 

(She made sure that he heard her displeasure by grumbling under her breath about stupid assholes who wouldn’t let her be and pretentious jerks with a death wish.)

Once she found the right classroom key, she ran to her usual seat, almost crying in relief as she saw her folder with her beloved notes peeking from the side. She picked it up and quickly shoved some of the sheets inside, fearing that Killian would recognize the eyes that she somehow found herself drawing from time to time when she doodled in class.

With a final glance at the room and taking care of leaving everything as it had previously been, she exhaled, rounding on her feet and passing by Killian without a second glance. He followed her out of the class, taking the keys and locking the door. She was browsing through her notes when he inquired.

“Why are you so mad at me? I don’t recall doing anything to upset you.”

She felt her shoulders stiffening, because this was the last thing that she wanted to discuss. It wasn’t the time, or the place, - for fuck’s sake, they had sneaked into school property after hours, they could get in serious trouble for this, and he wanted to talk about this?  _Now_? 

Before she could perfect her ‘I am not gonna answer you’ face, he passed a hand through his hair frustratedly, jogging to keep up with her. “Look, I don’t know what happened with Humbert, but if you want me to I will kick his ass.” He paused, and she mentally kicked herself for wincing as he said Graham’s name. He must have seen it, because his voice grew quieter, worried. “What did he do?”

She felt herself answering before she could think about it, and she realized that it was at his suspicion that it had been Graham’s fault. “He didn’t do anything. Leave it alone, Jones.”

“Then why are you so fed up?” She made a growling noise under her breath, but resisted the urge to scream at him, staying quiet instead and looking for the stairs that would lead them to the exit. Before she reached the end of the hallway, he tugged on her arm, and she automatically tried to free herself. He stared at her, and the wrecked look on his face almost broke her resolve. “Emma, at another time I’d let you punch me in the face just so you’d feel better but I’d rather you told me.”

And that did it.

She released her arm from his hold, and walked back towards him until they were nose to nose. “THIS. Exactly this.  _This_  is what happens.  _This_  is what makes boys who actually care about me go away.”

He pulled back minimally, gawking at her. “What?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him appraisingly. “Why are you here?”

“Um, I don’t know,  _you_  are the one who needed to barge in here?” he said, looking at her like she had lost her mind.

(She definitely had.)

“Why are you  _still_  here?”

He gaped at her, looking almost offended. “Are you kidding? I got your back, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“But you should!” she screamed, stomping her foot on the ground. Why didn’t he get it? 

He swept his hands around him frantically in return, looking at her with challenge in his eyes. “Well, tough shit, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Her resolve started to crumble, and before she knew it she was pushing him, hands over his firm chest shoving him until his head bumped against a notice board hanging on the wall. Her hands shook against his shirt, and she poked his chest angrily, voice almost as shaky as her fingers. “Don’t - you should have  _your girlfriend_ ’s back, not mine! Not make me know that you’ll be there,  _caring_  and, - being you!”

...and there it was. He looked positively dumbfounded, mouth parted in shock as he took her in, and she didn’t really know if she wanted him to say something or not, terrified of what it might be. She didn’t really know she could handle it, whatever it was. 

She was a coward that way.

He took a step in her direction, hand seeking her own almost unconsciously. “Emma...”

The lights that they had stupidly switched on when they had reached the hallway suddenly turned off, and they stood still, her hand automatically flying to cover his mouth - and it was  _definitely_  not the time to notice his warm breath against her skin, dammit. They heard footsteps leading up the stairs, and before she could come up with some scheme to get them both out of there, he took her hand away from his face, pushing her towards the opposite end of the hallway.

“Go,” he urged her. 

She scowled at him, pushing him in return. There was no way she was letting him do this now. “No - this was my fault,  _you_  go.”

He shook his head, looking over his shoulder towards the footsteps coming closer - probably campus security. Just their luck. “You need to get that project done, now go.”

Fuck. She gulped, not knowing what to say - if she got caught, there was no way she’d have enough time to finish the damn thing, but she couldn’t just let him get caught. “I...”

He gave her a pained look, begging her to listen to him for once. “For the love of God, Swan -  _go_.”

A million things unsaid, and an even messier mix of emotions tightening her chest, she gave him a nod and followed his instructions, intending to walk down the other set of stairs towards the back entrance. Before she was out of sight, she noticed a flashlight illuminating the space where Killian was, and she spied him lifting his arms in surrender as he approached the couple of guards.

“Gentlemen, I’m so glad you’re here. See, it was reported that a ghost was wandering the building in search of confiscated pot.”

She missed the astonished faces of the two men as they listened to Killian’s eccentric story, but didn’t miss his frantic hand at his back motioning for her to go.

For once, she listened to him.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t really know what Henry wanted, showing up at her house at this ungodly hour - okay, it wasn’t  _that_  early, she had even turned in her project already but considering she hadn’t had a wink of sleep the night before she was cranky alright. 

Tink had knocked on her door and told her that her ‘cute little brother’ was downstairs, - to which Emma had cocked her head to the side with a silent implied ‘really?’ - and with a groan had told her she’d go talk to him in a moment.

She found him in their living room, and she sat on the other couch, giving him a look. He tended to show up to ask for her advice whenever he had trouble, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what it was he needed right now. 

To her bemusement, he didn’t want to talk about himself. Instead, he looked like he was waiting for her to speak.

“I’m all ears,” he said, putting his hands on his knees and looking attentively at her. She furrowed her brow, completely lost. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

He groaned, rubbing his hand nervously over his face. When he looked back at her, she noticed absentmindedly that the tips of his ears were red. “Where did you spend the night?” 

She was growing exponentially warier of this conversation by the second. What the...?

“...Here?” 

He cocked his head to the side, - his way of testing her ability of lying to lie. “Really?” 

What the hell did he think she had done the previous night, and why did he care at all for starters?

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Um, yeah? I haven’t slept at all. I had to finish a project, I just came back from turning it in.” 

She hoped the black circles under her eyes, her messy hear and ratty t-shirt were proof enough that she had, indeed, not being partying or doing God knew what he thought. 

He took her in, frowning, and after a quiet moment, he seemed to accept her explanation, his cheeks tinting crimson too. He looked almost apologetic. “Oh.” 

She glanced at him suspiciously. “Why?” 

He scratched the back of his neck nervously, stammering all over the place. “I just... I heard your name called from Killian’s room.” 

Okay she hadn’t been expecting that, of all things.

“...ew.” 

He threw his hands in the air, scrunching up his nose in distaste. “Not  _that_  way. Jesus.” He shook his head, making a face, and rushed to explain. “Milah was there too.” 

This just got better and better. 

“... _ew_.” 

He groaned louder, passing a nervous hand over his hair and messing it even more. “For God’s sake Emma - she was  _yelling_  at him, and your name was mentioned, alright?” 

She stopped breathing for a moment, processing it all. Killian and Milah had been yelling in his room? Well, she guessed that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Every couple had its fights from now and then, and Killian had taken the fall for her the night before. He probably had been explaining to her what had happened. 

That didn’t explain why her brother was here, asking about...  _oh_. 

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. “So you assumed I had slept with him.” 

Henry bit his lip, shame clouding his expression as he looked at her under his lashes. “Maybe not exactly that, but… yeah. Sorry.” 

She guessed it wasn’t such an absurd thing to wonder, that she and Killian spent the night together doing the nasty. It hurt her to consider that her brother had thought that she’d do that, knowing that he was taken and that the scars left from the whole Graham fiasco hadn’t been gone by a long shot, but she had to give it to him: Killian and her were a mess, and it didn’t come such as such a surprise to know that everybody knew, and to expect them to do something equally messy.

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. “Whatever. Nothing happened, it’ll blow off.” 

She saw him from the corner of her eye shaking his head sadly. “I hope so, but I doubt it. Killian ditched her when she was gonna introduce him to her parents. It was a pretty big deal.” 

She stopped breathing for the second time that day. 

He had  _what_?

She remembered wondering briefly where he was headed, dressed up so nicely, considering it was him - the rings and necklace gone, hair tidier than usual. And yet he had given no thought whatsoever as soon as he saw her at the faculty’s door, angrily trying them in her desperation to get inside. 

He had missed a very important date with his future in-laws for her? 

Henry’s voice sounded like under water, slow and sluggish to her ears. “Emma?” 

“ _Shit_.” She jumped out of the couch, dashing upstairs towards her room to change, skipping steps two at a time. 

 

* * *

  

It wasn’t like she had had that much trouble finding Milah’s apartment - she had been in there once, a couple of months ago, if she recalled correctly. They had all decided to go out to some bar in town one night, but seeing as Milah wasn’t exactly familiar with the public transport on campus, Emma had proposed to pick her up first so she could come to the ZBZ house and get ready with the rest of the girls so they could all leave together. She had seen the grateful look on the other girl’s face, and had wanted to show it by cooking for her. They had had a really nice dinner together, getting to know each other without the boys around. 

Not the exact same circumstances in which she found herself knocking on the other girl’s door, precisely. 

Milah opened a minute later, when Emma had started to fear that she had missed her - or worse: she had the wrong apartment. Her eyes were puffy and red, only making Emma feel even worse than she did. 

“Hey. Can we talk?” 

Milah grimaced slightly, leaning against the doorframe with a tired sigh. “Look, Emma, no offense but you’re the last person I wanna see right now.” 

She gulped. Jesus, this was messed up. Biting her lip, she met the other girl’s eyes uncertainly. “I know, believe me - I had to look at Tamara’s face every day after I found out she had slept with Neal. Not fun.” 

They stared at each other, silently measuring the other up. With an even more tired sigh, Milah opened the door wider to let her in, silently walking back to the comfy couch where they had both sat drinking a glass of wine - in an attempt to look classy, even if they switched to straight tequila once they were out, - the last time she was here. Meeting her gaze, Milah acknowledged her earlier words with a face. “I’m sorry.” 

She flapped a hand dismissively. “It’s fine, I’m over it.” 

The other girl bit her lip, considering her quietly. “But see, the thing is - Neal  _did_  sleep with Tamara. You and Killian, on the other hand - he’s with me, but he’s also with you. A part of him is always with you.” Her voice dropped, as if speaking the words aloud hurt. “He’s yours, even if you don’t know it, or want it.”  

Emma’s breath caught, thinking that this whole thing was absolutely surreal. She couldn’t believe how everything had snowballed to this in so little time. She passed a hand over her face, anxiously pulling at a strand of hair falling over her eyes. “But nothing happened, I promise.” 

For a moment, there was silence, and Emma stared unflinchingly at the girl sitting in front of her. She genuinely liked her - she was kind, and funny, and beautiful, and if she could never be with Killian again, then she was glad he was with her. She didn’t want to be responsible for them breaking up - and wouldn’t it be fucked up, though? Graham leaving her because of Killian and Milah breaking up with Killian because of her?

Was it because of them? Were they cursed not to be with anybody else unless it was the two of them? Why would it be so difficult if it was ‘meant to be’, as Mary Margaret usually put it? Milah scratched the back of her neck, and for a moment all Emma saw Killian, and something resonated inside of her, an ache at seeing how well these two people just clicked. 

Sniffing quietly, Milah finally met her eyes, resolved and calm. Emma envied her. “I believe you. But one day, it will. Or maybe not, but I can’t be with someone who will always choose somebody else over me.” 

Emma’s lip trembled, and so did her voice at what she was hearing. “But he chose you.” 

“You two act like a couple except you are not. You trust each other, comfort each other, - for God’s sake, you two even finish each other’s...” 

“Please don’t say ‘sandwiches’,” Emma begged almost unconsciously, and Milah cracked a smile, giving her a fond look.  

“See? That’s the kind of thing  _he_  would say.”

Rendered speechless, she just sat there, waiting for the beautiful girl who loved the same beautiful boy she did to admit that she would never give up on him and that she should back off. But she didn’t. Instead, Milah was intent on showing her what Graham had already claimed the day he told her he was leaving.

There’s no way the guy is not in love with you.

And even if she had seen firsthand what he had done for her - the way he kept doing things for her, putting her first and treating her like she was so special for him - she had always labelled it as him having a soft spot for her, just as she did for him. Finding out this way that it was something more - way more, - she couldn’t really wrap her mind around it.

Milah crossed her arms over the armrest, letting her head rest over them as she looked at her from the corner of her eye. “I heard all about you after you two started dating. I remember how his whole face lit up when he talked about you. His _Swan_. His _Emma_. You were  _the_  girl. It is tough to compete with that.” 

Emma’s cheeks flushed, and she had to fight the urge to burst out crying. God, what was with her and tears lately? But she had to admit the way Milah had described Killian talking about her warmed her to the core. She had never felt like she was anything much, - that somebody would consider her  _it_ ,  _the_  girl. As an orphan, she had never thought she’d get to have something to call her exclusively hers. Killian had been hers, and knowing that he considered himself so and she as his was overwhelming to say the least.

Gulping loudly, she turned back to her with a tentative smile. “I thought you were  _the_  girl. I used to be jealous of the way he talked about you too.” 

Milah smiled wider, the redness in her eyes almost disappearing as she gratefully accepted her words. She stared ahead of her, towards some faraway point over Emma’s head, and Emma realized that she was not really seeing her, or the painting on the wall, or anything surrounding them, but memories of her and Killian. Of them together - of their first meeting, their banter, their first shared kiss, their fights and makeups, their phone calls and Christmas presents. 

Maybe she was not the one, as she claimed, but she had been for a time. 

Shrugging her shoulders slowly, she looked back at Emma once more. “You don’t need to. Maybe I was once, until he met you.”


	6. Chapter 6

There’s something she used to tell herself when she was younger - before Graham, before Neal, before Killian, before the sorority, even before Henry.

‘Being alone isn’t necessarily a bad thing.’

She murmured it to herself, tattooed it in her mind as she repeated it over and over in her head, even when no matter how hard she tried to get the message seared into her very soul, a tear would slip down her face. Because, no matter what she and anybody told herself - she _hated_ being alone.

Right then, these days when she was making everything in her power not to run into Killian and have the inevitable talk - even though she still wasn’t sure what ‘the talk’ would be about because there was _so much_ to cover - it was easy to use that mantra she used to live by as an excuse not to seek him out. Not even to check how he was doing after his breakup with Milah, or how the realization of her own split with Graham had affected him, or… whatever it was that went through his mind whenever he looked at her. Thought of her. _Felt_ for her.

She tried to ignore the pang of guilt that struck her when she thought of how maybe the right thing would be to get this over with. Go to his house, see his face, tell him… - tell him _what_ , exactly? She didn’t even know what to say. Everything had come and gone so fast, she still couldn’t really get a grip on what had happened. First Neal, then Killian, then Walsh, then knowing that yeah, maybe it _was_ Killian, then Milah arriving and knowing that she had no one to blame but herself, then Graham, then Graham leaving…

She had endured so much heartbreak, knowing that she had messed up because of lingering feelings that she had been more than happy to ignore for her former boyfriend and that she had no way to fix, that now she couldn’t even grasp that there _was_ a chance.

She couldn’t think of chances and happy endings when both of them were hurting.

( _‘Seize the day!’_ , she knew her teacher, Professor Hopper, would say if he knew what her train of thought was. Not that it mattered - she was not one for ‘seizing the day’ if it would lead to more pain.) (And why had she taken his class she still didn’t know.)

She knew most of her friends and anybody who knew her could see what she was doing. It wasn’t like it was _that_ hard to realize, after all. No matter how many times she insisted she was _fine_ , the looks she got told her that they clearly weren’t buying it. They probably easily read the ‘I’m just trying to buy some time before we run into each other’.

Before the crash happened.

( _‘I just… need to lick my wounds,’_ she had told Ruby. She had only nodded silently, and then cracked a joke about her loving furry animals to keep her company and could Emma please morph into a furry puppy or something?) (She loved her friend, dearly.)

So, instead of ‘seizing the day’ and getting happily ever afters and love declarations under a star covered sky and what not, she kept to herself and her sisters. Talked to Henry, went to class, studied and worked for her projects, helped Regina out with the sorority functions and philanthropy hours to fill. Ignored the quiet voice in her head that told her that, even if she was avoiding Killian, it was more than clear that he was giving her the same treatment.

And why the thought bothered her, she didn’t know.

They had always been more alike than she gave them credit for.

And because of that, she knew that, same as her, Killian also needed to be alone. Because, as she had learned the hard way, being alone wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

* * *

 

“Damn it,” she swore grumpily as her foot slipped and she almost hit the counter in her attempt to reach the last Pop Tarts package in the cupboard. She had always loved them, since she was in the system it had been one constant along with the chocolate muffins that she had clung to no matter where she ended up. And after all, there was no way she could stomach bearclaws or Golden Grahams.

It still hurt.

She let out a victorious whoop when her hand finally gripped the Pop Tarts, going back to the kitchen table to join her sisters and feeling pretty accomplished with herself. Aurora called for their attention with a loud whistle, a pen hovering precariously over her ear and a magazine sitting by her cereal.

“Ladies, hit me up. Ruby - you’re Gemini, right?”

“Yep,” Ruby chanted, slipping into a free seat by her to read over her shoulder, even if she didn’t need to: this was one of the most sacred ZBZ morning rituals.

Horoscope reading in the kitchen.

(Needless to say, Ruby had tried the ‘horoscope reading in the mooorning’ catchphrase but only a handful of sisters had gotten the reference. She had been inconsolable for weeks.)

“Okay: _Glowing health and an enthusiastic attitude make almost anything a pleasure today, Gemini. Relations with friends and family are warm, congenial, and cooperative. Your day should go as smoothly as you could expect. There is something you want to do in the afternoon that you're looking forward to. Your mind is especially sharp right now._ ”

Arching an eyebrow, Ruby clicked her fingers on the table, her lips - bright red, as always - curling into a knowing smile. “Sharp, you say? Intriguing.”

With a laugh, Aurora slapped her arm playfully, shooing her away. She turned to the rest of them, grinning. “Any Leos here?”

Regina sighed, resigned.  “Me.” Emma suppressed a smile - Regina usually made a huge deal about putting up with the horoscope crap, but she knew for certain that the current ZBZ president read more esoteric articles here and there than she let on. One night, she even had told her about Robin and her being soulmates and whatnot because of some hand reading she got and how their horoscopes were destined for each other. She had been pretty hammered when she told Emma, though.

“ _Your rock-star attitude may be getting a bit old now, Leo,”_ Aurora read, and Ruby let out a delighted laugh, followed by the rest of them, ignoring Regina’s scowl. _“People aren't going to continue to listen to your demands for attention. Every person in the world is special, so try not to act as if you're the only one who is. Help a child assemble a new toy today or help a friend pick out a new shirt. Do something for others instead of always expecting things for yourself._ ”

At this point, all of them were in stitches. Regina just winced, mouthing an “ouch” and rolling her eyes as Aurora winked at her.

“Mary Margaret is an Aries, isn’t she?”

The aforementioned bumped the fridge door closed with her hip, caging Aurora from behind with her arms and settling her chin on her shoulder. “Yup.”

“ _By being around negative and flip people, you might inadvertently pick up these habits. Be careful about your associates, Aries, because you will find that others judge you according to the company you keep, especially if you start talking like them. Make sure to maintain a respectful attitude and proper manners no matter who your company is._ ”

Emma snorted, giving her friend a knowing look. “That’s what you get for being around David’s brothers all of the time.”

“There are douches in every house, Emma,” Mary Margaret retorted, and Emma lifted her arms up.

“I know, I’m just saying.”

Ruby clapped, cutting off the conversation before they started saying things that they didn’t really mean. Emma wasn’t very proud to admit that she had been very prone to picking up stupid tiny fights lately. “Tell Mulan and Emma theirs.”

Mulan yawned - she had never been a morning person, which Emma related to all too well, - and waved a hand as if she could shoo their ritual away from her. “That’s not necessary, you know we don’t believe in -

“‘- that crap’”,  they all chorused, mimicking Mulan. She made a face at them, only making them burst into giggles, and Aurora kissed the tip of her nose soundly. “Yeah we know. Shut up and listen,” she said, twirling a strand of her silky hair on her finger and guiding her so she could sit with her on the chair. “Mulan, aka Virgo.”

“Definitely _not_ a Virgo, though,” Ruby pointed out, and Emma almost choke on her Pop Tart.

Fucking Ruby.

Aurora, instead of looking anything but mildly scandalized, just smirked and proceeded to read. “ _Your ship is finally coming into port after being out in rough seas for so long, Virgo. It's time to dock the boat for a while. Relax and explore the area. There is nothing wrong with getting off your vessel for a while. You may not even realize how much you've missed solid ground until now. Remember what it's like to be stable again._ ” She smiled down at her girlfriend, bumping her shoulder to hers encouragingly until Mulan smiled back. Flipping the page back, she searched for the last one and sought Emma’s face. “Scorpio: _Communicate from a centered space today, Scorpio. Fortunately, the nature of the day caters to your needs and desires. You shouldn't have to work too hard to get what you want. Things should come to you naturally. You may wonder why you got stressed out before over what now seem to be small issues. Consciously release the worry and concern that are still stored in your body._ ”

She had to give it to the writers in these magazines: they spouted crap like there was no tomorrow.

“Small issues. Right.” She swallowed the last of her Pop Tart, grabbing a napkin to dab at her lips impatiently. “Easier said than done, I guess,” she grumbled, ignoring the pointed looks she was receiving from her friends - except for Mulan, who was yawning again and probably hadn’t heard her.

“I haven’t read so much bullshit together since Twilight,” Regina pointed out with a sneer, and Mary Margaret huffed out a laugh.

“Yet you read it.”

“Bite me,” Regina growled. Ruby jumped at the opportunity, grabbing the president’s arm and leaving a barely visible mark on her skin.

“Gladly!”

“Ruby!”

“I was just following orders!”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she was too happy to see how life went on and her friends kept up their nonsensical banter and idle chatter.

No matter how bad things were, the reassurance that she would always have this warmed her to the core.

“I hope you know you can’t do that to our guests.”

Aurora frowned. “What guests?”

Regina’s head fell to the table counter with a plomp, groaning loudly. What a _drama_ queen “I told you the other day - we are making an exchange with other ZBZ alumni from other campuses in the country. They’ll be here in two weeks.”

Emma frowned - she probably must have missed that meeting, or maybe she just hadn’t been paying attention. She thought she had heard something about an exchange, but she hadn’t known it’d be happening so soon.

Mulan stretched out like a cat, the hem of her shirt rising to show a strip of skin that Aurora tickled as soon as it was revealed. “Well, it’ll be nice to have some new blood around. I’m bored of you all.”

“Very nice,” Regina commented, pursing her lips. Mary Margaret shook her head in motherly fashion, until her expression turned conflicted and somewhat wistful.

“Well, there was Milah, but…” she caught herself, and her eyes - along with the rest of the girls’ gathered at the table - went to Emma, who had lost her Pop Tart appetite right there.

The memory of the last time she had seen and spoken to Milah was still bitter and sad on her tongue, nothing compared to the sweet treat she had been enjoying that morning.

Aurora cleared her throat nervously, directing her question at Emma. “Did you hear anything from her?”

“Last thing I heard, she was moving out. I don’t know where, but she said she’d keep in touch,” she declared morosely. She tried to sound casual, but she knew better than to try to hide the mortification from her voice.

Her friends shared a look, nodding. “Right.”

Before she could think what she was doing, Emma found herself saying, “I told you guys, I had nothing to do with that.”

At once, the group of girls rushed to placate her - it wasn’t always that Emma felt the need to reassure herself, that was for sure, but this issue had left her completely out of her depth when it came to where she stood. She couldn’t bear to think her friends blamed her and whispered behind her back for making a new friend leave.

(Angry whispers of her past, of ‘you drive everybody away’, ‘you can’t keep anybody around’ swirled past her, and she shivered, terrified beyond repair.)

Mary Margaret’s hand gripped hers, her fingers warm and reassuring over hers. “We know,” she said, eyes understanding as she looked at her. Regina eyed her from the head of the table, considering her quietly.

“Even though it may not be _technically_ true.”

Emma groaned internally. She had heard all of this before, they had set a little intervention after everything had gone to hell when she visited Milah and came back home looking like she had seen a ghost.

It didn’t make it any easier.

“Well, it’s not like you purposely broke them up. But you had something to do with it,” she continued, and Emma rolled her eyes, snapping back without a hitch.

“Are you blaming me or trying to console me? I truly can’t say.”

Regina ignored her, huffing under her breath and returning to her muesli bar. The rest had followed the exchange with worried eyes, but at the sudden break, Aurora jumped in.

“Have you heard anything from Killian?”

There it was again. That sudden tug at her heart, like a spark, bright and alive, sizzling and trembling under her skin, like a tiny thunder had hit her chest.

And from what she’d heard, thunder hurt.

Hearing Killian’s name also did.

“No.”

“Aren’t you going to talk to him?” Ruby wondered, frowning, and Emma just shook her head.

“Not anytime soon.”

“Why?”

Emma picked up her bag, taking out her things until they were clattering besides their cereal bowls and steaming coffee and cocoa cups. She picked up her phone, furious all of a sudden - with them, with him, with herself, she really didn’t know. “Do you see him calling me? Showing up here to figure out this mess? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

She knew she was acting like a brat, but she had stayed silent for too long, her thoughts and fears and worries hardening bit by bit until only her frustration leaked out from her, slow and painful.

They all stayed silent after that until Mulan pointed out how there was milk on Ruby’s chin, and that started a completely new conversation between the girls, even if the underlying tension and message stayed clear and loud. _‘Emma’s a big girl, she can handle it.’_

Even if she had never been sure she could handle Killian. Not now, not ever.

 

* * *

  


She jumped to avoid another puddle on the sidewalk, grimacing at the stain she’d gotten earlier when a stupid asshole had kicked one and splashed her. To her surprise, she noticed a hand at her right, and she held onto it, smiling gratefully at David as she sidestepped the rather large pool. It had been a couple of rainy weeks, and she couldn’t wait for the clouds and storms to go away. Her hair wasn’t extremely accommodating to this level of humidity. and no matter how many pairs of socks she wore, her feet stayed frozen and damp most of her morning classes after the walk from the house to the school building.

The only reason she was out right then instead of being huddled with a blanket reading a book or catching up on her favorite TV show was because David had begged for her to accompany him to buy a present for Mary Margaret’s birthday. She had wrinkled her nose and come up with something about her pledge educator duties, but the sneaky jerk had already asked around the house if she was free so she couldn’t get away with it. She had only gave in when he promised to buy her cocoa after they were done.

It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy spending time with David: she loved him like the big brother she never had, had been since she met Mary Margaret and they started hanging out with the boys from Omega Chi and Kappa Tau. But spending an entire afternoon hearing about what the love of his life would like or not wasn’t really what she had planned for the day.

The fact that he would probably ask at some point about her disastrous love life wasn’t really sitting well with her, too.     

David slipped his hands inside the pockets of his coat, silently beckoning her to follow him inside the bookstore they were partial to. “Where is Henry?”

“He’s with Roland I think. Which is the lame excuse he gives around instead of telling me he’s with Grace.” She smiled fondly, thinking about the text she’d gotten from Henry earlier that day. The poor kid didn’t even try anymore.

David frowned, giving her a confused look. “Why doesn’t he want you to know?”

She snorted, linking their arms together and batting her lashes coyly, dropping her voice to a whisper. “What do you supposed those two are doing?”

Later, she’d regret she hadn’t taken out her phone and snapped a picture of the blush staining his cheeks, but she was too busy cracking up at the blatant show of embarrassment displayed before her. What a puppy.

She patted his arm, holding back a laugh. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve kept your relationship afloat, Nolan. You’re totally blind.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, but didn’t try to pull away from her, instead dragging her towards the fiction section where he insisted he had seen Mary Margaret freaking out over some new edition of an old compilation of fairytales. They spent the entire next hour bickering like a married couple, giving pros and cons and throwing away the other’s ideas until they both called a truce.

Once David had paid and had his purchase gift-wrapped, they left the bookstore, as Emma reminded him as obnoxiously as she could possibly manage about his promise of hot cocoa. He rolled his eyes, pulling her to his side and starting towards the nearest Starbucks when he stopped in his tracks.

“Locksley?”

Robin was walking past them but stopped in his tracks when he heard his name being called, waving half-heartedly, hair a tangled mess and shoulders hunched. “Hey.”

Emma gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay? You seem…”

“Vexed? Breathless?” he suggested, the tip of his mouth pulling at a pathetically tiny smile that only managed to worry her further.

“I was gonna say grumpy, but sure. Whatever.”

He passed a shaking hand through his hair. “I’m not certainly sure, to be honest.”

David and Emma shared a look. It wasn’t like Robin to look this… conflicted. Emma had always considered him pretty easy-going and carefree, so seeing like this was quite unsettling. “What’s wrong?”

Robin sighed, his shoulders slumping even further, to Emma’s amazement. “I ran into Marian.”

...Oh.

“Your ex?” David clarified, as if he didn’t know who Marian was. Emma gave him a cursory look, begging him to shut up. Robin just smiled thinly, nothing like the warm grin he usually wore.

“Exactly.”

They stayed silent for a minute, not knowing what to do or say, and to say it was uncomfortable was the euphemism of the year. In the end, she decided to break the ice, shuffling her booted foot on the sidewalk and asking carefully, “I’m guessing it wasn’t a pleasant reunion…?”

Robin snorted, as if _that_ was the real understatement of the year. “Not really. I haven’t seen her in a while, and it turns out that, no matter how ‘okay’ we claim things are between us, they’re really… not.”

David’s eyebrows pinched in a frown. “I thought she was the one who broke up with you.”

Robin nodded somberly. “Of course. She wouldn’t settle for someone who had lesser affections for her than for other woman, even if it meant she had to let go of the man she loved.”

Looking back at Robin, Emma tried to recall every detail about Robin and Marian’s story - and Regina’s, by default. She hadn’t arrived at campus yet, because it all had gone down when Regina and Robin were in their freshman year, but apparently it hadn’t been pretty.

She guessed that finding out your high school sweetheart had fallen for someone else once they all started college hadn’t really sat well with Marian, and she couldn’t blame her.

The fact that during Emma’s own freshman year she had lived through another freaky love triangle business had made her and Regina bond over, she guessed. Even though in Regina’s, Robin had been the one breaking a heart, Marian getting hers broken, and Regina  had gotten it all: the guy, the soulmate, the happy ending. In Emma’s, she had broken someone else’s heart and thought she had found her happy ending with Neal.

Fate was probably laughing its ass off looking at her.

“That sucks, man,” David resumed, and Emma nodded, afraid to speak up. Robin smiled at the heartfelt sentiment, gaze turning sad and wistful as he looked up at the cloudy sky above their heads.

“Yeah. Trying to act as if nothing had happened with someone you loved, someone you’ve put through so much pain... it is truly horrible.”

...and suddenly, the air charged, as if the clouds were swirling around them, the storm brewing and growing, rain and smoke and cold and sparks as they clashed into each other cracking beyond their control. She felt dizzy, the sudden onslaught of feelings at Robin’s words - ‘ _someone you’ve put through so much pain’_ \- beating against her, the echo of misery and pain marking her skin.

And even in the midst of her silent breakdown, she didn’t miss David eyeing her from the corner of her eye.

Robin shook himself, as if ridding himself from the memory, and gave them an apologetic smile. “Anyway, I… I should go.”

David gave him an one-armed hug, bumping his fist on Robin’s back comfortingly. “Of course. See you.”

With a last smile - bigger, warmer, Emma thought, - Robin tipped his head in Emma’s direction and was on his way, a farewell called over his shoulder as he walked back to the Omega Chi house.

She stayed silent until her feet started carrying her in the direction she and David had been headed before running into Robin until they were both inside, shedding their coats and searching for a free seat in silence. She counted in her head, waiting and dreading for the moment when David decided to say the inevitable.

It took him 17 seconds.

“Are you okay?”

She tugged the hem of her shirt, making a fuss of ridding it from invisible lint. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She wasn’t even meeting his eyes but she could practically feel his scowl. “Don’t act coy with me. You _know_ why.”

Even if she had heard long and hard all about what she should or could or may or would do concerning Killian from her sisters, David had kind of stayed out of it, which she had greatly appreciated.

Until now.

“Maybe I’m just sick and tired of people asking me about it,” she pointed out, finally looking back at him and wincing at the flash of hurt that crossed his features. It quickly morphed into concern, gaze softening as he pulled his seat closer to hers.

“Maybe we do because we care.”

She slumped against the back of her couch, sighing loudly. “I know, and I appreciate the concern, but there are some things you guys can’t help me with.”

And it was the truth. She knew her friends were there for her - they had made it more than clear. They tried to keep her occupied, they didn’t (overly) push her, they didn’t trick her into making her run into Killian (which had greatly surprised her, because at this point she was expecting some kidnapping business until they both had it out, but nothing yet).

Still, some things she needed to do alone.

“What _can_ we help with then?” David asked after a pause with a hopeful look, and Emma had to smile back at him.

“With buying me crap - food, clothes, whatever you like.”

He looked taken aback, staring at her in wonder. “Wow. Here I thought you were gonna say something like ‘making me company’ but you went right to the goodies.”

She snorted loudly, massaging her temples in an attempt to alleviate the headache that surely was coming. “Damn right I did. I have enough company as it is.”

He sent her a knowing look, knitting his brows as if he didn’t believe her. “You sure?”

She thought about her sisters. About Henry. About David and some of his brothers. About the Kappa Taus she still saw here and there - Victor, when he popped in to take Ruby out, Philip and August, who still texted her from time to time as if nothing had happened, - even about Grace, who had timidly approached her and offered to spend some time together in order to get to know each other better now that she was seeing Henry. Graham, who still called to check up on her as promised.

Everybody, but maybe the person who would have made it all go away.

She looked back at him, smiling. “Yeah.”

(Not that it really mattered, seeing as a week later, he drove her to the animal shelter he volunteered at once a week, insisting on animals being better company than people anyway.) (She had to agree for the time she spent cuddling with the most adorable puppy she had ever laid eyes upon.)

 

* * *

 

 

She waved distractedly at Tink when they made their way downstairs, checking her e-mail on her phone and wondering what the hell did she have to do to stop getting promo messages from random shops she hadn’t been in years. So engrossed she was cursing TopShop for the thousandth time and deleting their Spring Sales notification email that she didn’t even see there was someone in her way until it was too late.

“Oh!”

She crashed to the ground on top of an unfamiliar face, wide blue eyes frantically looking around. Emma tried her hardest not to spit out blonde hair from her mouth as she disentangled herself from the newcomer, realizing with a wince that she not only had knocked down the poor girl but her belongings in a cardbox as well, random pieces of clothes and books littering the hallway.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The girl shook herself as she accepted Emma’s hand, rising on her feet and looking around them. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Sorry for that, let me help,” Emma insisted, kneeling along with her to help her put away her scattered belongings back into her box.

The commotion only garnered the attention from Emma’s neighbor, Ariel, who peeked out from her room and just asked quietly if they were okay, going back to Eric - she was _always_ skyping Eric, long distance relationships did that to you, as she repeated over and over, - as soon as Emma reassured her they had it covered.

When the last thing was back inside the box, she turned back to look at her.

“Are you… lost?” she inquired curiously, still inspecting her with her things tightly hugged to her chest with interest. The poor girl flushed, laughing nervously.

“Oh no, I’m just moving in my stuff and I wasn’t sure which one was my room so I was… kinda...”

“...wandering around?” Emma finished for her with a grin, and the new girl nodded, her blush fading slightly as she smiled back at her.

“Pretty much.”

Looking back at the door she thought the newbie had been trying to open, Emma aah’ed in understanding. “You’re the exchange program girl.”

She was rewarded with a brilliant smile and an attempt at a wave with her occupied hand, still carrying her box. “That’s me. I’m Elsa.”

“Emma,” she said, stopping herself before she offered her own to shake hers. There was no way Elsa was letting go of that box without dropping everything to the ground - _again_.

“Nice to meet you,” Elsa said, and Emma approached her, holding out her own arms to help her carry her things.

“Well, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t help you with all of this. Here, let me.”

Elsa looked surprised at the sudden offer to help, but just smiled gratefully in return, leaving her room to hold the box along with her. “Thank you.”

They carried it inside the room that had been designated to her for her stay, and after a couple of trips back to her car - that she had miraculously parked in the right spot she had also been assigned by Regina, thank God, - they moved everything until she was settled. After leaving her own things in her and Ruby’s room, Emma came back to help her rearrange her things and show her how the ropes worked in the house. She also insisted on sharing little details she remembered from the previous owner of that room she thought could prove useful: the creaking closet door that could only be muffled by settling a towel underneath its edge, or how she would probably want to wear earplugs if she tried to get some sleep before 2AM, seeing as the walls were thin and the girl in the room she shared the wall with stayed up late and liked her music loud alright.

Once everything was done, Emma looked around, a little taken aback. “Wow. It’s all very… blue.”

Elsa put her hands on her hips in an almost regal way, smiling proudly at her work: the posters on the wall, the trinkets on the desk and bedside table, the ribbons she had used to decorate things here and there - hanging from the door handles and the walls. “I know. I’m weird that way.”

“It’s actually very… cool,” she commented, snorting at how lame she was. Elsa giggled with her, shrugging.

“Thanks.”

Emma twirled around until she was sitting on the desk chair, and Elsa moved to sit cross-legged on her new bed.

“So. How long are you staying?”

Elsa arched an eyebrow, the corner of her lips pulling into a mischievous smile. “Eager to kick me out?” All of a sudden, the playfulness was gone and she looked stricken. “I’m sorry, that was a joke, I didn’t mean…”

Emma frowned, looking at her confusedly. “Why would you apologize for making a joke? If it falls flat I’ll let you know, don’t worry.”

“Okay. Sorry, I’m not extremely good at socializing,” she commented, picking at the hem of a cushion - blue, of course - she had brought with her. Emma felt a rush of sympathy for the new girl, recalling not-so-pleasant memories of her first days on campus and how awkward she’d felt at the prospect of talking to people outside of her family.

“You’re doing pretty great for now,” she insisted reassuringly, and grinned wider when Elsa appeared to take her words at heart, sighing in relief.

“Thanks. I’ve a hard time easing up around new people.”

Emma laughed. “I get what you mean.”

Elsa sat back against the headboard of the bed, looking at her eagerly and seemingly encouraged by her attitude. If she hadn’t said anything about her trouble with starting new acquaintances, Emma wouldn’t have thought she had any. “It’s easier to stick to what you feel comfortable with - at first I pretty much stayed with my sister and the few people I knew from back home, but that’s not really what college is about, right?”

Emma thought back to the day she left for campus and had said goodbye to Henry. He had made her promise she’d find her way in this new world she was embarking to, and it had been his voice in her head what had prompted her to first try to introduce herself to the people she ran into - some classmates to share notes, then Ruby in the laundry room. What had made her accept Ruby’s idea about rushing.

She knew how Elsa felt.

“Right. I used to be the same way but it turned out pretty well in the end here.”

They shared a look, full of memories of younger and insecure girls, afraid of the brave new world. “Same. I still can’t believe they named _me_ president of my own sorority back home though.”

Emma’s eyes widened - she hadn’t known the exchange girl was another ZBZ president. She silently wondered who was in charge back there while she was here, but shook the thought away as she smirked back at Elsa.

“Wow. Responsibilities much, huh?”

Elsa threw her arms in the air, throwing the cushion up and snatching it back as she made a frustrated noise. “I know! It’s awful.”

“Yeah, I bet you complain much when you get to boss everybody around, miss president,” Emma sassed back, and Elsa just gave her a look, smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“Hey, I hear you’re second in command - maybe one day _you’ll_ get the pleasure and horrors of running a sorority and you’ll call me crying at night for advice.”

Emma remembered about Regina’s promise to leave the presidency in her hands after she left next year. About what she had been willing to go through to get it, and how much she had wished the position back then. Now it was all very… _meh_ to her. Of course she wanted it, but she wouldn’t give up so much just for the chance to run the house.

Looking back at the new sister, she considered that she wouldn’t mind having an ally - especially someone who looked like shared a bit too much baggage with her. “Maybe I will.”

Elsa’s gaze softened, as if her thoughts hadn’t been too different from Emma’s, and they shared a companionable silence, enjoying the sudden and new camaraderie. They shared some tidbits about their lives at their respective campuses, their majors and how Elsa’s house back home was different from theirs from what she had been able to see. Emma promised to give her a tour - both of the house and campus - whenever she wanted.

Elsa’s phone rang then with some strange song Emma didn’t recognize, and as she took it out she proudly showed her its blue sparkly case, making Emma laugh. She unlocked it and rolled her eyes.

“My sister. She’s worried already.”

Emma aww’ed. “That’s cute.”

Shrugging, she quickly texted back a response and threw it to the other end of the bed.  “I guess. Do you have any sisters?”

“An entire house isn’t enough for you?”

The blue cushion almost hit her in the first but she avoided it by crouching on the chair, and it hit the window instead. “Smartass,” Elsa called, laughing, and Emma followed her.

“I have a younger brother. He’s a Kappa Tau freshman.”

At that, she would swear Elsa’s ears pricked up, and she jumped from her place at the headboard until she was practically out of the bed, looking at her excitedly. “Oh! Anna’s boyfriend used to be president of Kappa Tau.”

Emma tried to hide the surprise on her face - she had always associated the presidency with Killian, and it was weird to remember that, before him, there _had_ been others in charge. In fact, the only one she had met had been during their freshman year before he left their next one. He had taken Killian as his protégé, taught him how things ran in the house - as in, in a completely messy way and guiding themselves by a ‘go with the flow’ attitude - and last thing she knew about him he had moved out to…

She paused, frowning. “Hold on - _Kristoff_?”

Elsa clapped, grinning like a fool. “You know him?”

She made a face. Not that she didn’t like Kristoff - he had had that cool guy vibe, that charm and easy disposition about him that made it practically impossible not to like him. It hadn’t come as a surprise that he and Killian had gotten along so flawlessly.

But, somehow, Emma had always associated Kristoff with how Killian had kept slipping away from her, finding the wonders of brotherhood and beer and parties more and more inviting until she felt left behind in his priorities list. And she couldn’t shake the quell of bitterness at the former KT president for that, even if he hadn’t been really at fault.

“Sorta. He’s a legend around here. My… ex is current president, and they knew each other our first year here.”

Elsa whistled. “Wow. Small world.”

“I know.”

(No matter what Emma felt towards Kristoff - be it bitterness, resentment, or just plain indifference, - the guy had never been anything but nice to her. She had to give him that. She still remembered him putting a protective arm over her shoulders when the boys were cracking too many jokes at her expense, or how he would glare at Killian when he noticed that Emma was feeling left out until he would slap him in the back of his neck to catch his attention and not-so-subtly wave in Emma’s direction until he realized she was, indeed, there.)

(It all seemed like a lifetime ago, God.)

“Are you close?”

Emma shook her head, still half lost in her thoughts. “Excuse me?”

Elsa gave her a look. “Your brother and you.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah we are. We are both adopted, so we’re thick as thieves, I guess,” Emma explained, a little startled at herself for sharing that with this girl whom she had known for less than an evening. But she didn’t feel out of place, or self-conscious by admitting it.

She knew she had been right not to hide her past when she caught Elsa’s face, bewildered and understanding, and she followed the way she nervously tapped at a necklace she wore with a silver charm. “Our parents died when we were pretty young too, and it made us grew closer. Sometimes pain is what brings people together, right?” she said, looking intently at her.

Emma gulped, feeling a bit overwhelmed, but she found herself nodding in return. “Right.”

She thought of Henry and her, younger, lost and alone and how she had been offered a place where there was hope. She thought of her friends: of Ruby and her insecurities and fears of being a failure even masked behind such an upbeat and cheerful exterior, of Tamara and her constant bitch-I-might-be attitude to hide a closet full of skeletons of her own from her senator daughter’s prone to drama life, of Neal and his daddy issues that not even all of the money and power his family had a hold onto could heal.  

But, above it all, she thought of Killian. Of whispered confessions in the dark of his room, of anniversaries of his older brother’s death and slurred, drunk angry rants about his no-good father. Of frantic kisses and declarations, begging her not to leave him.

Maybe what she had seen in him had been what he had seen in her: broken people, lost and just searching for a place - or someone - to belong to.

She lifted her gaze to see Elsa patting the space beside her on the bed, and Emma followed her instructions, sitting with her. “So. Tell me about what there is to do around here, Miss Swan.”

She smiled.

  


* * *

  


...of course she hadn’t brought an umbrella. Even when most of her sisters had mentioned how it would start raining that night and probably even earlier - _‘I’m sure it’ll be drizzling at least by 7.30,’_ Elsa had told her, and Emma still couldn’t figure out what sort of weather connection her new friend had but it spooked her to no end - she hadn’t listened. Alas, she had ignored them all and had decided to forego her umbrella.

She just hated carrying umbrellas around. Even when she did, she still ended up drenched.

Not that it was raining per se, mind you - it was, as Elsa had weirdly predicted, drizzling, a light downpour misting the air. In the right light, it almost looked like a sugar storm that hit Emma’s skin as she walked back to the house, a shower of wet kisses pressing down on her.

She walked down the corner through a shortcut that would get her to her warm, dry room at the house faster when from the corner of her eye she noticed a dark figure, lonely sitting at a bench near a park where students usually spent their free periods and played around. She would have ignored it hadn’t something bugged her about his posture, or the place itself.

It was _the_ bench.

The bench where Killian and she had spent hours talking, getting to know each other, him sitting as she lain with her head on his lap, his hand twirling one of her curls and tickling her face with it, his other hand wandering over the skin of her arm, her face, her neck, anywhere he could reach. The same place where they met to hang out, where they parted on whatever adventure they found themselves thrown into, be it a movie, a party, a ball, whatever.

As if pulled by a magnet, her feet carried her there and, sure thing, it _was_ Killian sitting there. He hadn’t even noticed she was there, eyes focused on the street ahead, taking it the silent road and the cloudy, wet weather.

“Hey,” she said, and he looked up at her, startled, eyes widening as he took her in.  

“Hey.”

She silently approached him until she could properly see his face, wet hair shining and curling at the tip of his ears. “What are you doing out here?” she questioned, cocking her head to the side as she looked around. There really was nothing worth staring at in there, unless the dalmatian that ran around - that in fact she was pretty sure was owned by Professor Hopper, - counted. There were only a small group of students running back to their respective places, giggling madly as the light spray fell over them.  

Killian just stared at her closely, and she tried not to look too affected by the intensity of his eyes on her. Or how good he looked in all his wet glory. (What.) “A drizzle,” he said, as a way of explanation.

It was, though.

Her lips curled into a small smile, nodding in understanding. “I know.” Shuffling her feet on the wet ground, she stepped in his direction, pointing at the free seat on his left. “Can I...?”

He hastened to sweep the wet droplets on the bench with the sleeve of his jacket so that she wouldn’t get the back of her jeans completely soaked. “Sure. I’m surprised there isn’t a print of your lovely derrière here already.”

She chortled, carefully setting her butt on the now dry space at his side, her fingers brushing his as she did. “It must have faded out from other lovely butts you’ve surely brought here too.”

He turned to stare at her, serious and intense. “My point still stands.”

Even with the cold wind that bit at her cheeks, she felt herself flushing. She knew what he was trying to tell her by that: that he hadn’t brought anybody else besides her there. Rationally, it wouldn’t make sense, really - it was just a bench at a mostly non-frequented place in campus, - taking into account that he did have a bed at a warm, private room in the KT house. But it still pulled at something, gave her a slight feeling of being special, unique, apart from other random girls he must have been with since they broke up.

As she took a seat, she begged to calm herself, wringing her hands nervously in her lap until she let out what she had known she had to say once she saw him. Not that she had expected to find him out there, that day, under a light drizzle, of all places and times, but one could never plan exactly how things would take place.

And no matter how many times she had rehearsed the conversation in her head, she knew she’d mess it up from the start.

She didn’t disappoint, just blurting it out like she had no filter at all.

“I’m sorry about Milah.”

He just eyed her silently, until he shrugged, exhaling slowly and tiredly. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I shouldn’t have asked you to help me,” she insisted, recalling how he had just… showed up and stayed until she got inside the building and got back her notes. The way he had pushed her to tell him what was bothering her, and how shock had etched into his features once he realized what had happened, the real reason why she was so upset whenever he was around, why she had been desperately avoiding him.  

He gave her a look, almost chastising her. “If I recall correctly, you didn’t. I offered.”

She sighed, because it was true. “You shouldn’t have though,” she murmured softly, fingers playing with the leather tie she wore on her left hand, pulling at it once and again until it left an angry red mark on the skin of her wrist.  

“But I did.” He repeated, now silently beckoning her to look at him. She knew that she had made everything she could for him to leave, and that it had been his choice to stick with her, no matter how much of a bitch she acted towards him.

Yet it still didn’t help to ease her guilt towards what had happened with him and Milah.  

Sighing, she slumped further on the bench, a small part of her begging her to let her head rest on his shoulder, prove that he still smelled of firewood and spice and rain. “Either way, I’m still sorry. About what I said, about Graham - and you. I was upset and angry and it was way out of line.” She bit her lip, nervously checking his reaction, worried that he’d either reproach her for being a total bitch that night or try to make her feel better about the whole ordeal.

She didn’t know what she dreaded more.

He considered her words in silence, until he gave her a small smile, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t know if she felt bothered by the fact that ‘it’s okay’ seemed to be the only thing he could answer her with, or worried about it. It was like… a less vibrant version of Killian Jones, sitting at that bench - _their_ bench, - with her. As if all the fight and light and life had slowly leaked out of him, the spark ever-present in his eyes dimming.

It didn’t feel right.

Nothing was right, lately.

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked tentatively, terrified of keeping up the conversation. She knew what her friends, Henry and everybody wanted them to talk about - the giant elephant in the room that everybody and their mother knew as Killian Jones and Emma Swan and What the Hell They Were - but, she thought, one step at a time.

Either way, she wasn’t sure she could put up with sharing that conversation with _this_ Killian Jones.

His eyes found hers, the light downpour dimming slightly over them. He took a deep breath, a puff of air forming at his lips as he did. “I don’t know. I will be. Eventually. What about you?” he asked with a tiny smile, one that soothed her worry about his behavior. She shrugged, mimicking him and exhaling loudly.

“I don’t know.”

His grin widened, and she couldn’t help but return it with one of her own as she spied _that_ glint in his eye, coming closer to the one the rascal she knew used to wear. “You will. You are _the_ Emma Swan.”

She felt her chest constricting, full of gratitude and something that she didn’t know how to label. ( _Yes you do_ , part of her fought.) Without thinking about it, her hand slipped into his, lacing their fingers together. Her thumb rubbed his slowly, a silent show of appreciation and understanding and a promise of her being there for him, hoping that no matter what was to come, they would make it work somehow. Even if they still had a ton of crap to figure out, she vowed to be there. Knowing that he would be, too.

“I am not gonna last if you keep this up, Swan,” he suddenly said, and she slapped his arm softly, doing her best not to laugh and failing.  

“Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you _kidding_ us?” Ruby’s squeal could probably be heard from every corner of campus, or even Narnia, if Emma had to bet on it.

Elsa frowned, almost offended by the suggestion. “Of course I’m not!”

“For real?”

Elsa threw her hands in the air. “Why would I make this up?”

“To see our hopes and dreams crushed once you told us it was a lie?” Aurora wondered aloud, and Elsa just shook her head in response, flopping by Emma’s side and rubbing her temples tiredly.

“You are ridiculous,” she finally declared.

“Always have been,” Emma pointed out from her corner of the couch, barely raising her eyes from her phone.

Ruby slapped her arm, offended, and Emma slapped hers back in return, ignoring her protesting ‘ow!’.

Elsa followed their bickering with raised eyebrows, probably wondering in silence what was it with two 20 year olds fighting like children. Emma couldn’t really blame her. When she was sure they were done, (once Emma dragged Ruby until she was sitting on her lap and she could clamp her hands so she would stop pinching her), she called for their undivided attention again. “So. You girls up to it?”

Aurora clapped, elated. To be fair, it wasn’t everyday that a sister came up with an offer to spend an entire weekend in some amazing house her rotten rich family owned. “Hell yeah! Count us in!”

They turned to Regina, who was looking at her phone after she’d heard the date Elsa had mentioned they’d be going. She cursed, looking at them sadly. “I won’t be able to go with you that Friday night - Robin and I have to attend some lame thing, but we can drive there on Sunday to spend the day and come back with all of you?”

Emma looked at Elsa, who shrugged. “Fine by me.”

“What about you people?” she inquired, looking at Mary Margaret, Ruby and Emma. Of course, Ruby took it into her manicured perfect hands to respond for all of them, breaking herself free from Emma’s grasp and jumping to her feet victoriously.

“We’re coming!”

Her smile was blinding, and then she turned to her expectantly. “Emma?”

She bit her lip, considering it all. “I don’t know…”

Ruby rounded on her so fast it almost gave her whiplash. One bright red nail hovered before Emma’s nose, threateningly close and she hated to admit she was a bit alarmed for a moment. “Don’t you _dare_ , Emma Swan. We need this. _You_ need this.”

With a slap to her hand, Emma made a face at her. “Wow, are you… my little voice? Telling me what I need? Wow.”

“Stop playing dumb. You are coming with us or so help me God I’ll drag you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, channeling the inner pouty girl she had never had the chance to be during her childhood. “Where are we going again?”

“My aunt Liz is gone for the month to visit a relative in Maine, and she suggested I went there to visit Anna for the weekend and brought my friends too,” Elsa rushed to explain, and Emma’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. She whistled softly in appreciation because, well.

Cool aunt Liz didn’t know what she’d done.

“That’s very... cool of her,” she offered uncertainly, and Elsa gave her that kind of elegant-shrug she somehow managed, graceful and almost regal.

“She has her moments.”

“Isn’t she afraid we’ll trash her place?” Mulan wondered aloud, and they all laughed in response.

Emma was silently alarmed by the prospect, too.

Waving a hand, Elsa reached for her phone - probably to text her sister and tell her that she would be joining her at last, with a group of crazy sisters in tow. “Nah. She’s used to Kristoff’s parties in there since he and Anna started dating.”

Huh. So Kristoff had christened the place already? Then whatever her sisters could get up to would be no match for anything he must have done back there. “Wow.”

“So - you’re coming?” Elsa’s voice was so full of hope, and the anticipation in her eyes as she silently begged her to accept was probably what made her cave in. She rested her hand over her eyes, dramatically, all woe-is-me.

“Do I have a choice?”

Ruby squealed again, throwing herself over her on the couch and almost toppling them to the ground under the amused stares of their sisters. She snaked her arms around her, kissing her cheek soundly. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Being away from here for a weekend, gorgeous lake to go skinny dipping...”

“... _nobody_ is skinny dipping, Ruby.”

“...singalongs around bonfires, and eating s’mores, and all of us together! It does sound fun. Riiiiight?” she chanted, eyes bright and wide and expectant focused on hers, and Emma pulled back, shaking herself. She had always insisted on Ruby being some kind of hypnotizing snake, like the one in The Jungle Book. She could make you accept anything by chanting something and inching closer and closer until there was no possible way for you to say anything else besides what she wanted you to say.

She shooed away from her, grimacing and trying to kick her out from her lap. “It doesn’t sound horrible, I guess.”

It really didn’t. In fact, the more excited her friends got over their planned weekend, the more eager she got to spend it with them, too. It’d be good for her to just… get away, be with her friends, and get out of campus for a while, even if it was just for a couple of days.

“Who’s coming, again?”

“Us, Anna and her boyfriend and some of his friends,” Elsa counted, and Emma made a face. She hadn’t expected more people apart from them and Elsa’s relatives, but it did made sense that, if Elsa brought people from campus, they would, too.

Ruby noticed her change of demeanor instantly, pointing at her warningly. “Don’t give me that look. It’ll be _fine_.”

Emma gave her a look of her own, but it fell flat because, as it seemed, her friends weren’t having any of it today. Throwing up her arms in the air, she slouched on the armrest of the couch, sniffing the cinnamon-scented air freshener that was inherently ZBZ material. “If you say so.”

Mary Margaret shook her arm. “Hey, stop pouting. You deserve to have a weekend off, lady.” Emma raised her gaze, noticing the soft glint in her friend’s eyes, and smiled back.

“ _And_ we deserve a chance to try skinny dipping.”

“There’ll be _no_ skinny dipping, Lucas,” Mulan warned again, but Ruby was already strutting up the stairs, clamping her hands over her ears and singing some off-tune obnoxiously loud.

“I can’t hear you!”

* * *

  


Mulan glowered at the ginormous case with such distaste that Emma was worried she’d kick it to the curb. “Are you _kidding_ me, Lucas? There’s no way it’ll fit in here!”

“That’s what she said,” Aurora murmured, but looked down trying to hide a smile when Mulan and Mary Margaret glared at her.

“Cut it out.”

Emma brought her hand to her lips, whistling as loudly as she could to gather her sisters’ attention. “Guys, come on. You, get inside; you, go back for Aurora’s; you, grab snacks from the kitchen, they’re in a bag on the counter; I’ll deal with this.” She barked out orders signaling each one of them, knowing full well that as long as they tried to do everything at once they’d just waste precious time that they could spend breathing in clear air and enjoying the silence that the woods could provide.

“Yes, ma’am,” they all chorused, and promptly left.

As soon as she made sure each one of them followed her commands, she sighed, glowering at Ruby’s case. In all its red glory - because _of course_ it had to be red, - it looked like a bomb about to detonate and spill every kind of piece of clothing that its owner would most assuredly end up not wearing in the span of two days.

It also looked stupidly heavy.

Grumbling to herself, she hauled it with both of her hands, trying to set it on the trunk and then proceed to the horrifying task that was making sure all of it fit. She hadn’t counted on her fingers slipping on the handle, though, and she pathetically tried to set it on the ground without breaking any bones in her foot. Miraculously, someone showed up to help, and swearing to herself that she hadn’t sweat this much since she took up jogging the previous year, they finally managed. Exhaling a relieved breath, she turned to her savior, annoyed despite herself because there was no way her friends had already come back from inside the house.

“I told you to go - oh.” She stopped herself, frowning at the newcomer. “You’re not Mulan.”

Killian’s eyebrow flew up his hairline, staring at her bemusedly. “If I were I’d be pretty kickass, but sorry to disappoint. Just plain old me.”

She bit her lip, wondering for the thousandth time how she was supposed to just talk to him. Even if they had kind of had that talk and apologized for both of their disastrous relationship statuses, they were pretty much walking on eggshells around each other. It was stupid, really - or not. She knew she missed him, and she was pretty sure that he missed her, too. She could see it in the way his eyes followed her whenever they found themselves in the same room, the ache and longing etched on his features. Elsa had inquired about their situation once they all happened to meet at a Lambda Sig party and, at Emma’s refusal to share, Ruby had summed it up as the ‘most pathetic puppy-eyeing show she had ever witnessed in her entire life’.

Emma was inclined to agree.

But she couldn’t just… go, grab him and kiss the hell out of that sinful mouth of his, could she? They needed some time to adjust to everything they’d gone through. It didn’t feel right that, right after Graham, after Milah, they’d just link hands and ride off into the sunset together.

Hollywood was wrong in there: life just _didn’t_ work that way.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, and was awarded with a bewildered look. He scratched the side of his neck, nervously looking back to the car and then at her.

“...preparing to leave? Liz’s place? Amazing house in the woods for the weekend?”

_Hold on a fucking second_. Did that mean… did he _actually_ mean…?

She was going to _murder_ her friends. Fucking meddlers. She was so angry she was tempted to throw Ruby’s baggage out and set fire to her clothes.

Instead, she just said one word.

“Oh.”

He cocked an eyebrow, studying her curiously, until realization dawned on his face and he made a quiet, choking sound. “You didn’t know I was coming.”

“No, nobody mentioned it,” she explained, flushing despite herself. They both stood quiet for a moment, too embarrassed to look at the other, and Emma wished for the ground to open up and swallow her right there _please_. Finally, he raised his eyes to stare at her expectantly, hiding his hands in his pockets - something he did to stop themselves from wringing and pulling at whatever he could find, as she had learned a while back.

“Are you okay with that? It’s just I was invited, and the guys are quite excited about it - we got to spend an entire week there two years ago and it was _amazing_ and...”

Emma’s discomfort seemed to vanish - or at least a great percent of it - as he stammered nervously all over the place. He would have been absolutely adorable if the sight didn’t make her feel so bad. “Jones, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry if it looked like I didn’t want you to.”

He seemed relieved by that, even if still wary. She couldn’t blame him - the shock of realizing that they would be spending an entire weekend in close quarters together hadn’t really left, and she feared it wouldn’t until they were back on Sunday night. “‘Kay.” Throwing a curious look at the car, he squinted to see if there was someone behind the wheel already. “Who’s driving?”

“Mary Margaret. She’s the only one I trust not to kill us in the way for getting too excited over a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.”

He flashed her a grin, and it did _horrible_ things to her. “Yeah, but she’s slow. You won’t get there before dark.” A curve of his mouth plucked up, flashing that damn dimple of his that she had always secretly hated - and loved. “Bet we’ll arrive before you.”

She rolled her eyes, leaning against the side of the car as he followed her. “What are you, ten? I’m _not_ betting on who’s getting there earlier. As if I needed another incentive to have an accident for speeding.”

He gave her that ridiculous pout of his, that unfairly managed to make her feel ridiculous things. “You’re no fun.” With one last glance in her direction, he shook himself, clearing his throat and tipping an imaginary hat at her. “See you there, Swan.”

She didn’t pass the challenge in his voice, and she knew that, no matter what she’d said, she would be hearing about the boys being faster than them all weekend long. “Whatever,” she called with another eye roll, going back to her tetris-like job of fitting all of their luggage in the trunk.

And all of that, trying to ignore the fluttering butterflies that reappeared every ten seconds whenever the realization that Killian would be spending the weekend with them sank in.

Because, pissed off or not by the news, she couldn’t deny that the thought excited her.

This was bad. This was _so_ bad.

(This was good.)

(This _had_ to be good.)

That was when Ruby and Elsa came back with Mulan, who jumped inside to join Aurora (who had been oblivious to the entire exchange as she was engrossed with some vine on her phone - did this girl realize she’d have no battery left by the time they were halfway to their destination?) while the other two joined her. Emma tapped her foot on the pavement, glaring at them accusingly. “Did I somehow miss the memo about the Kappa Taus coming?”

Both of her friends exchanged a surprised look, and Emma frowned. They didn’t look… guilty.

“I thought you knew? I mean, David is coming too - he knows Kristoff. And of course as soon as Elsa mentioned we’d be going, Kristoff invited his former brothers,” Ruby explained, and Emma bit back an angry retort, even if she was slowly coming to realize that they were, in fact, telling the truth. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from being frustrated. And, as the petty brat that she could be, she felt like lashing out at whoever that was in her way.

But she didn’t.

(Because, so it seemed, she was actually actively trying not to act like a petty brat.)

“I’m an idiot,” she finally declared, closing her eyes in defeat and bumping her head against the hood of the car repeatedly.

Elsa leaned at her side, looking at her carefully. “We didn’t want to ask because, well, you know.”

Emma frowned. “You know _what_?”

Ruby pursed her lips and stood by Elsa, shrugging nonchalantly. “You kinda close up when he is mentioned, so.”

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t really know what to say to that. Basically because they were _right_. They had tried to get her to share what she had in mind concerning Killian, but it had fantastically backfired after their little intervention. She hadn’t really wanted to talk about it anymore, and so she hadn’t. She hadn’t really gone out of her way to avoid Killian after their encounter on the - _their_ \- bench, but it wasn’t like she had sought him out either.

And so, they were at another impasse, or so it appeared.

She had feared one of the two would break sooner or later, but she hadn’t imagined that it’d come to this - both of them being thrown into a situation where they would be spending two days together no matter what, forced to be in each other’s company.

This was it.

Like… it, _it_.

“This is gonna be a long weekend, isn’t it,” she whined, and felt just a _tiny_ bit better by her friends’ hands patting her in the back comfortingly.

(She asked Mary Margaret to let her drive in the end. Jones was right - she’d slow them down. And there was _no way_ she was gonna let those idiots get there before them.)

 


	7. Chapter 7

Ruby’s head popped up between Elsa and Emma’s seats at the front, hand imperiously pointing right ahead of them. “Is that it?”

“Yeah - right there.”

“That one?” she insisted, and Emma fought back a groan. Ruby automatically turned into an over sugared five year old kid once you gave her the slightest bit of adventure, and after spending the last three hours holed up in a car with her friends she appeared quite ready for it.

Elsa craned her neck to glance at her exasperatedly. “Do you see anything else around? Yes, that one.”

Silence fell inside the vehicle as the group stared up ahead, reactions going from impressed to awed. Emma considered the considerably-sized home, buried deep within the bluffs and surrounded by nothing but trees and wildlife. It had strong, clear lines that contrasted with the serene backdrop of the lush greenery around it. Emma studied the huge French doors leading to the outer deck, considering that Elsa’s aunt hadn’t really minded about her privacy considering the hidden spot in which the house was located.

All in all, a pretty sweet place to chill at.

It appeared her comrades agreed, from their slaw-jacked faces.

“Wow,” Aurora murmured, skipping out of the car and shading her eyes with her hand as she looked up, whistling under her breath.

“What she said,” Ruby agreed, following her until Emma warned her not to try to get out of carrying out her stupidly heavy baggage.

Finding the front door open, the girls pulled their bags out of the trunk of the car and made their way through the house towards the back deck. There, the stunning view of the woods was spread out before them, just barely lit by small torches that dotted the dock and pathways that led down to the driveway. The entire back of the house was flanked with brick patios and decks, and where Emma thought she could hear voices. She cursed under her breath, knowing that Jones and the rest of the KTs wouldn’t let them live it down for getting there before them.

To her surprise - and silent relief - a pretty redhead with a beaming smile appeared out of nowhere, flinging herself against Elsa in a flutter of long, swishy blue skirts and long braids.  

“Elsa!”

“And that might be my sister,” Elsa pointed out, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Anna’s enthusiasm. She hugged her back fiercely enough, though, Emma noticed fondly, as she inspected the two sisters with a smile.

When they pulled apart, Anna still held her older sister’s hands in hers, shaking them excitedly. “I missed you.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Anna.”

The girl just grinned impishly, pinching her cheek. “I’ll take that as ‘I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my new friends’, thank you.” With that, she turned towards them with another dazzling smile which Emma found herself momentarily blinded by. “Hi, I’m Anna.”

They all exchanged handshakes and hugs - Anna was the overly friendly type, she noticed amusedly as she kind of crushed herself against Mulan as she gushed over her hair, to the girl’s unease, - and Emma was about to ask where should they leave their bags when someone familiar walked right into their petit comité, distractedly reading something on his phone.

“Hey Anna, where did you leave - oh,” Kristoff stopped, sounding confused as he realized Anna was, indeed, not alone. He smiled broadly, but soon looked around in confusion as he noticed they were down in numbers. “Are the boys here already?”

Looking at him, Emma could kid herself into thinking the last two years hadn’t passed and she was knocking on the Kappa Tau Gamma’s door, with Kristoff on the other side inviting her in. Sandy-haired and easy-grinned,  Kristoff carried himself with a sort of confidence and charm that pretty much everybody felt pulled towards. She couldn’t help but smile at the memories of him joking quietly with her about this and that, letting her join in his brothers’ poker nights - and consequently making them all lose their money and cheeseritos - and giving her and Killian aspirins in the morning after extremely rowdy parties.

(And condoms. She had no idea why, but at some point in the night he’d always slip one into Killian or her pocket. It had been embarrassing to no end at first, but then she’d come to appreciate it and seeing it as something rather... sweet.)

“We got here first because we’re that awesome,” Mary Margaret said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. Kristoff considered her, trying to hide a grin of his own.

“Did they really bait you into a Fast and Furious competition?”

Emma swore under her breath.

Dammit. She should have known.  

She looked at her sister from the corner of her eye, shuffling her foot on the deck trying to look inconspicuous. “...Maybe.”

Kristoff chortled, delighted. “I’m so proud of them,” he commented, shaking his head and still chuckling. He then opened his arms and imperiously commanded, “Come to my arms, ducklings.”

“Ducklings?” Mulan asked. Mary Margaret smothered a giggle with one hand as the rest threw themselves at him, trying to reach in his hug - which was a feat in itself. Six girls against one guy. Not bad.

He gave them a look. “Come on, I remember when you were tiny and adorable and made my pledges all weak in the knees. You’re my ducklings.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, bemused. She’d have never guessed he’d call her group of sisters that, though he and the rest of his house were versed enough in given names and clever - and ridiculous - nicknames to whoever they crossed paths with, so it really shouldn’t surprise her in the least.

Suddenly, an errant thought crossed her mind.

“Wait - is that the secret nickname they gave us that they never wanted to share?”

The rest of the group gasped, outraged. Kristoff looked apologetic, whereas Elsa and Anna mostly appeared both delighted and shocked at this new development. “Not even Philip spilled!” Aurora exclaimed, agitated. They all stared back at the former Kappa Tau inquisitively, who put a hand over his mouth in mock apology.

“Oops?”

Emma laughed, hugging his side and patting his back. It was good to see him again. “Thank you, Kristoff.”

“I live to please.”

Ruby tossed a strand of her over her shoulder, huffing loudly. “Well, they will never know our nickname for them.”

They all ‘ooh’ed in unison, agreeing silently on not voicing it just in case after confirming firsthand what a bigmouth Kristoff could really be. “They never looked overly interested in learning it, to be honest,” Mulan commented airily, but Kristoff interrupted them with a snort.

“Oh, believe me - they were.”

The girls exchanged a knowing look at that new bit of information, storing it for the future, as Ruby rubbed her hands conspiratorially. “This is gonna be fun.”

After that very enlightening conversation, the two siblings proceeded to show them around the house and Kristoff offered to help them with their bags (which Ruby took advantage of). Anna almost danced on her feet as she pointed at the spacious living room with all kinds of paintings and gorgeous sculptures adorning the crème-colored walls, the kitchen and finally one by one organized them around the several rooms. Apparently, counting on how many of them would be staying the two following nights, they had come up with a room arrangement where each of the couples would be sharing a room, leaving Elsa and Emma together and the Kappa Taus to fight over a bed in one small bedroom and the couches in the living room. As Anna led them to Elsa’s room, Emma and her friend shared a pained look, knowing that they’d forgotten their earplugs in what surely would be a house full of sexually active youngsters paired off in private rooms.

Lovely.

After retrieving their bags, everybody split up to unpack, leaving Emma no option but to follow Elsa to theirs. The blonde girl opened the door and waved inside with a flourish of her hand. “Here we are.”

Emma smirked. “Let me guess - it’s all blue.”

“Very funny,” Elsa drawled. Emma put a hand over her eyes, dramatically bumping into whatever she ran into around her to drive her point across.

“My eyes!”

Elsa finally joined in her laughter, slapping her hand away from her face. “Loser.”

“Hey, I’m not the one obsessed with blue.”

“Do you want me to kick you out from my extremely blue bedroom? You can always share with the KTs on the couch,” she menaced, hands going over her hips. Before she could fall to her knees pleading for mercy - she wouldn’t put it past her to actually go through with her threat and Emma was not about to risk it either way, - a head popped by the door.

“Can we swap instead? I wouldn’t mind to share with Elsa.”

Jefferson waggled his eyebrows comically, wincing when August slapped the back of his neck. They were soon followed by the rest of their brothers and David, who was an old friend of Kristoff’s and hadn’t wanted to miss the opportunity to visit. At the non-stop grins they were sending the two girls, Elsa hid herself behind Emma, linking her arms around her waist.

“Please, Emma, save me from them.”

Emma distinctly heard Jefferson’s quiet “ouch” at that, spying him putting a hand over his heart with a pained expression, but it was soon forgotten as Kristoff’s boisterous voice resounded in the hall.

“Pledges!”

The boys’ voices sounded as one, claiming all in perfect unison, “Captain!”

Emma and Elsa rolled their eyes as they witnessed the group flee their positions to throw themselves at their former president, leaving a pouting Jones behind. “How many times have I tried to make you losers call me that?”

“You haven’t got that much authority, I guess,” Kristoff replied haughtily in-between claps to the back and one-armed hugs, to which Killian just smirked.

“My teacher mustn’t have been that good.”

Kristoff scoffed. “Or you weren’t that good of a student. What’s your major these days?”

“Bible Studies,” Killian answered without missing a beat, and ignored the answering groans and chortles around him. His former big brother laughed, though, coming over to put an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair with the other, the scene looking extraordinarily familiar and alien all at once to Emma’s eyes.

“Come on,” he said as he led them to the living room. “I wanna hear everything that’s been going on since I left.”

“Everything?” Killian said incredulously as they disappeared down the hall. Elsa rolled her eyes and said something about going to fetch some sheets from a wardrobe in the attic where her aunt insisted on keeping them. Emma waved her off, focused already on unpacking. She startled when Anna, who had showed up after Kristoff earlier, offered to help her, and they both finished the job rather quickly, making small conversation. She was rather unique, Emma thought to herself as she listened to her talk non-stop at such a fast pace it was almost impossible to follow her train of thoughts at times. Anna almost trampled herself in her haste to tell her about practically everything that came up: from how she met Kristoff (they ran into each other at the sauna at the community center) to what her favorite food was (sandwiches). It was rather refreshing, if Emma said so herself.

Her companion’s chirping voice was overpowered at that moment by obnoxiously loud guffawing coming from the window, and they both stuck out their heads to find Kristoff and Killian almost on the ground in hysterics. Probably reminiscing old times at the house, if Emma had to bet on anything.

“They’re really close, huh?”

Emma turned to find Anna cocking her head to the side as she contemplated the two brothers with a pensive expression on her face. “Yeah. Big - little brother stuff, I guess,” she finally said, and Anna nodded, smiling lightly. Emma pushed aside from the window, going back to close the now empty bag and hiding it under the bed, where Elsa had directed her earlier to put it. Anna ran to her side to help her, even if there was no need.  

“Where is your little sister?”

Emma smiled sadly, thinking of poor Tamara, who had had to stay back because of some group project. “She’s visiting on Sunday, couldn’t come today I’m afraid.”

“Oh. Well, Sunday then.” Her pout quickly morphed into yet another brilliant smile, to Emma’s neverending amazement. “You wanna see the rest of the house?”

Emma shrugged, thinking that, for all intents and purposes, there was nothing better to do at the time unless she wanted to join the rest of her friends and the Kappa Taus outside. Which meant facing Killian. Which she wasn’t sure she was ready for yet.

She’d stick with Anna for now, thank you.

“Sure.” She followed her down the hall, looking up at the family portrait that hung on the wall. “Thanks again for inviting us,” she added as an afterthought, but Anna just snorted, waving a hand dismissively over her shoulder.

“It’s nothing. Big house - what else would you fill it with but partying college students?”

“Right,” Emma laughed lightly. “So. Your sister tells me you two are like bread and butter huh.”

“Yeah. I’m missing her terribly while she’s down there with you people.” She turned to look at her closely, and for a moment the chipper, bubbly girl she had been with for the last hour disappeared, leaving just a concerned, loving girl. A sister. “She is having a great time there, isn’t she?”

“I hope so. There’s little to bore her.”

(There really wasn’t. It’s college, after all - if social life didn’t keep you occupied, then school would.)

Anna nodded sagely, agreeing with her sentiment. “Yeah, I supposed so. College life can be as dramatic as any soap opera, let’s be real.”

They shared a knowing smile, and Emma let her lead her around the house: the rest of the rooms - her sisters had mostly left their bags on the beds and their phones around, running off to join the boys on the outer deck, - the spacious kitchen and the impressively huge table where they’d supposedly be eating together, the living room - perfectly equipped to date with a huge screen propped up against the wall where Anna promised they could watch anything they wanted and could they please marathon the Harry Potter saga? - the basement, attic and practically every other nook and cranny that she could possibly think of.

Needless to say, Anna knew the place alright.

Once they reached the last room in the second floor, where the house owner’s room was, Emma stopped in her tracks, momentarily blinded. It was like she had stepped into an incredibly white cave: the walls were a pearly white, glowing softly, and everything - from the comforter to the curtains - followed the color pattern, giving it a simmering gleam that made her eye twitch involuntarily.  

Emma’s jaw dropped. “So I guess this is from where Elsa gets it, huh?”

“Gets what?” Anna inquired confusedly, looking around her. Emma signaled at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, waving at the rest of the room with a tilt of her head.

“The décor thing.”

Anna snickered, leaning against the window and enveloping herself in the silky material of the curtain, resembling a strange silver burrito. “They both have always had a thing for that, I guess.”

“Huh.” Emma walked cautiously to the bedside table, picking up whatever caught her attention - a silver brush, a soft yellow ribbon fashioned in wristbands hanging from the lamp, and most importantly a rather magnificent mirror with silver engravings that hung propped to the side. It gave Emma a weird feeling, thinking that whoever slept there would be reflected on it as she laid on the bed, as if she were being spied on constantly.

She had never been a big fan of mirrors.

She pointed a finger at it questioningly. “How does she even get some sleep with this though? Doesn’t it creep her out?”

“There’s a little curtain thing to cover it.” Her hand automatically flew to her throat at the voice, and she whirled around as Killian stepped behind her, smirking. Anna giggled, leaving her improvised cape behind and looking at him curiously.

“How do you know?”

He shrugged, nonplussed. “I asked the same the first time we visited here.”

Emma lifted an eyebrow. “You slept here?”

“Nah - in Elsa’s room,” he said with a shake of his head. Anna blew out her breath in relief, dramatically putting a hand on her forehead.

“Thank God it wasn’t in mine.”

Making a faint amused sound under his throat, he reached out to tug on one of her braids. “I wouldn’t be so relieved - Jeff did. And there’s a rumor going around, something about him drooling all over your pillow sheet...”

The way the color drained from the poor girl’s face was almost comical. Her lips curled into a disgusted grimace, horror coloring her features, and she was fleeing the room with a distressed “What? Ew,” in her wake that Emma couldn’t help but laugh at.

She was inclined to think that someone would be making a trip to the attic soon to search for clean pillowcases.

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to give Killian a cursory glance. “That was mean.”

“But oh so fun,” he argued, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. She just rolled her eyes at him and walked to the window where Anna had been previously at, peering outside - a view of the path that went deep into the woods.

She barked out a laugh as she noticed a crystal charm sitting at the window pane, swinging merrily when she accidentally touched it and clinking softly. “Seriously though, this looks like something out from a Swarovski ad.”

“Right?” Killian followed her until he was leaning against the opposite window frame, lips curled into a grin. “We spent our first night here making up stage names for mysterious aunt Ingrid, secret dance performer at high-profile clubs at night, cool aunt by day.”

“Glittering Ingrid.”

“Ingrid Sparkles.”

“Mine’s better.”

He snorted. “You wish.”

She slapped his arm, ignoring his reproachful yelp in answer. “We still beat you all getting here.”

(Not that she was feeling smug as hell for that. Not at all.) (She should be annoyed by being so fessed up with their stupid competition but she couldn’t help it.) (And he knew it, and used it to his advantage.) (Ugh.)

(She had won, whatever.) (Lalala.)

He gave her a scowl. “August insisted on stopping at Wendy’s. I was afraid he’d jump out of the window if we didn’t pull over.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” she cooed mockingly, pulling back from the window to stand in front of him, cocking her hip to the side and giving him a smile that oozed with satisfaction. “You still lost your bet.”

He mimicked her, voice laced with sarcasm. “I don’t remember betting on anything because someone chickened out.”

“I did not.”

“You so did.”

“Guys!”

She jumped, suddenly rattled at their position. They had been standing face to face, and she hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in her need to win their battle of wits (or unwits, depending on how you saw it). She gasped softly, putting some needed space between them, passing her slightly shaking hand through her hair and looking everywhere but at him. She made a gesture towards the door, silently urging him to follow her outside to see what their friends wanted. He complied, giving her a look but not saying anything, and she thanked her lucky stars for that.

It hadn’t even been an hour in the house and the tension was already skyrocketing.

(She so wasn’t gonna make it.)

They descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, where the rest of the group was reunited, each trying to be heard over the other, and Emma felt the childish urge to clap her hands over her ears. Instead, she put her fingers to her lips and whistled loudly, effectively shutting them all up and calling for their attention. She turned to Kristoff, who looked like the one who had some kind of idea of what to do or the reason why they were all huddled in there. He rubbed his hands together excitedly, eyes glinting.

As it seemed, his very bright idea for a plan for the evening consisted on them going on a walk through the woods, to the guys’ enthusiasm (except for Victor, who’d rather stay in or so he claimed) and a mixed reaction from the girls.

Emma didn’t even know why they were so opposed to the idea. What the hell did they think they’d do in a house in the middle of nowhere, surrounded just by trees?

Flapping a hand at Aurora’s whimper about needing to change if they were doing this, Kristoff grinned. “I really hope you all brought appropriate footwear.”

“You mean heels?” Ruby interjected rapidly, followed by a perfect chorus of groans around her. Kristoff just slung an arm over her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her head fondly, which stopped her grumbling about, seriously, not owning anything but heels.

“Right. So - let’s do this! Go, go, go!”

* * *

****  
  
  


“So what kind of animals are out here?” Mary Margaret asked, sounding intrigued as they traipsed through the forest. The terrain wasn’t exactly ideal, mind you - she had had to help Aurora twice already, as she wasn’t really versed in walking through greenery related activities, - but their spirits were high, joking and enjoying being away from the almost claustrophobic feeling of campus.

Anna shrugged. “Probably wolves.”

“Maybe bears,” Elsa continued.

Kristoff flashed a grin. “And monkeys.”

“Oh my!” Killian interjected, and Emma turned to look at him, unimpressed, shaking her head at his grin.

“Very funny.”

They kept walking, and Anna came to join Emma and Ruby as they did, encouraging them to pick some of the berries that grew on the bushes they passed. Emma was wary at first, not really sure it was safe enough - the Hunger Games had made a number on her, clearly, - until Ruby shut her up by popping one into her mouth and Emma got to taste it.

(Let’s just say the moaning that ensued would be later aptly labelled as pornstar worthy.)

Wariness all but forgotten, she fashioned a tiny basket with her scarf, where the girls put the berries they weren’t currently eating. They also played with them, throwing at each others’ mouths and trying to catch them in flight, which of course entailed half of the fruit on the ground. Emma heard a flap of wings over her head, and caught a glimpse of an owl perched on a high brand, cooing and looking at them. Elsa stood beside her, following her gaze, and dropped her voice conspiratorially.

“Anna swears once she saw a unicorn when she was little.”

Anna groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. “I was young and naive.”

“You also said the snowman we’d built talked,” Elsa remarked, suppressing a grin.

“Even younger,” Anna argued. Kristoff laughed a little at that, which turned into a wince as his girlfriend slapped him on the chest.

“She has a wild imagination. You could be a writer,” Philip, bless his heart, offered warmly, and Killian rolled his eyes, pointing at August, who’d fallen behind talking in hushed whispers with Mulan as they inspected something on the ground.

“Join Booth’s club, then.”

Fortunately, August didn’t hear a thing, too immersed as he was. They let it go, even though Anna pointed out that she did have creative ideas which she’d love to share in case anybody was willing to listen and offer her a chance to write a memoir, or a children’s book, or whatever. Emma was already drifting into her own thoughts when Mary Margaret piped in.

“Well, Emma insisted on her being able to control the lights.”

Emma gasped, embarrassed and outraged for being called out on that. “I swear, they went off when I wanted and it came back right when I mentioned it!”

(It had been freaky as hell and she had still not recovered.) (She had been tipsy and she swore it had happened, and what girl wouldn’t love to have powers, right?)

Killian shushed her. “Don’t be too fast to laugh at that - whenever Swan and I have traipsed in some kind of wood, something freaky happened. It’s like trouble follows her around.” He gestured at her with his hand, and Emma blinked, astounded at the way they were ganging on her.

“Hey now…” she muttered, running her hands through her hair in irritation, but Mary Margaret went on as if she hadn’t heard her.

“It’s true. Remember the time we had to run from that pack of dogs?”

“And Ruby tried the ‘puppy puppy good puppy’ approach and it backfired spectacularly?”

“That one.”

David joined in after cackling up merrily. “Another time we got lost and ended up sleeping under a tree.”

She shot them all a glance that would probably murder lesser men as they kept talking about her like she wasn’t even there, but all Killian did was grin shamelessly at her.

“It wasn’t that horrible,” she muttered reproachfully, and swayed her hips as she walked briskly ahead of them, huffing and ignoring their protests. Killian kept up with her, though, tapping her on the arm to catch her attention.  

“Nah. But admit it - you’re a troublemaker,” he stated simply, his eyes glowing in the twilight.

She shrugged his hand off, purposely stepping away from him even if he still followed her, undeterred. “I’m not. I just attract problems.”

“Are you saying that something will happen on this trip?” he gestured around the trees, branches intertwining over their heads where they could glimpse birds and even some errand squirrel here and there jumping from one to the other, the echo of their movements and chirping in the background.

She made a face. “Probably.”

The rest of their friends had caught up with them, eavesdropping on their conversation. Philip looked from one to the other with a raised eyebrow. “Are we talking about… random animal jumping at our jugulars, or an axe murdered finishing us off?”

“There’s no way to tell,” Kristoff supplied, giving one of his signature ‘don’t know don’t care’ looks that he’d always been so fond of. Ruby snorted.  

“That’s reassuring.”

Elsa made a noise at the back of her throat, caught between a laugh and a whimper. “Maybe nothing will happen right now, but in the weekend? A big group of young people alone in a house? We’re bound to have something.”

Anna frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mulan - who had abandoned her earlier CSI-like investigation of a random leaf with August behind - cocked an eyebrow at her. “Come on. Drama is pretty much implied at every college trip or party.”

Victor pumped a hand in the air, as if that was everything he’d ever signed for when he heard about their trip. Emma didn’t think the guy’s thoughts were that far-etched, to be perfectly honest. “Mark my words: a fight. Some unexpected development or sexual tension. Maybe sex.”

Emma snorted derisively.“Have you actually seen the sleeping arrangements? Of course there will be sex.”

She was rewarded with a dirty look from him. “I meant the kind of unexpected sex.” As he finished speaking, he gave the most unsubtle glance she’d ever seen in her entire life, staring first at her and then turning excruciatingly slowly to focus on Killian. Emma felt terribly tempted to throw her phone at his face. Instead she just grumbled, annoyed.

“Shut up.”

“Just you wait,” he sing-songed, stepping away from her to avoid her slapping him.

(He knew her so well.)

Killian, for his part, had started walking away, approaching one of the nearby trees to use for leverage as he rearranged his shoe, wincing. He must have stepped on something. Sneering at Victor over his shoulder, he started, “You’re so full of - AHHHH!” Something flew from one of the lowest branches and fell over him, and as if on cue, they all screamed along with him, even if no one really knew what had happened. Emma ran to his side along with David, worriedly touching his arm, and Killian jumped away, shaking himself hysterically. A furry brown relatively tiny body scrambled away, and at the snapping twigs under its paws the girls screamed again, hugging each other as if that was the best protocol to follow when attacked by tiny forest creatures.

All except Mulan, who was staring at them as if they’d personally offended her.

“It’s a squirrel. A squirrel,” she repeated, emphasizing the word as if she couldn’t believe they all shared a house together. Emma, for her part, went to put a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder, and noticed belatedly that it was shaking. She was about to tell him that it was okay - really, a squirrel, no big deal, it wasn’t like it was a rat or anything, - until she realized he was laughing, leaning his forehead against the bark of the tree as he tried to muffle his giggling.

He looked at her, and she thought he murmured something about trouble magnet, but she couldn’t be sure. She helped him up as the rest went to fuss over him - and interrogate him about the squirrel, which led to a ridiculous discussion about the fatal side effects a squirrel bite could entail.

They ended up naming the errant animal a R.O.U.S. after someone mentioned the Princess Bride.  

After they decided it was probably the best course of action to go back to the house to get cleaned up before dinner, Emma found herself walking beside Killian. She studied him from the corner of her eye, until she caught a glimpse of red on his sleeve. She grabbed his arm, halting him and making him almost trip, but he didn’t say a thing as she brought his hand up to her face to inspect it closely. There was an ugly cut on his palm, but from the rests of dirt and the smell she guessed it had been as he tried to pull away from the tree, shaking off the squirrel from him.

As she went to try to clean it up with her handkerchief, he tried to cradle it against his chest protectively almost on impulse. “It’s fine.”

She sighed long sufferingly as she pulled out a water bottle from the bag she’d insisted on bringing along. “Could you please stop acting like a baby and let me check it out?”

He looked like he was going to protest, but instead clamped his mouth shut and finally opted to wink down at her. “I love it when you boss me around.”

She didn’t even fight an eyeroll. “Very funny.” She wet the cloth and wrapped it gingerly around his hand, hoping that it’d keep until they got to the house and he could dress it properly. Satisfied with her work, she looked up to address him when she saw another red smudge on his neck. Her fingers acted on her own accord, touching it gingerly until the pads of her fingers were tinted in red. “Are you bleeding?”

“What?” He touched his neck, confused, and his own fingers ended up like hers, crimson and sticky. She was deeply focused on hers, realizing finally that it wasn’t, in fact, blood, when he explained. “That must’ve been the berry Philip threw at me earlier and I couldn’t find.”

Why wasn’t she even the least bit surprised about them having a berries war until they ended up stuffed under their clothes? Right: it was typical idiot behavior. And nobody had claimed that these guys weren’t idiots, after all.

She shook her head, hiding a grin and bringing her hands to her face, noticing the strong smell the berry juice left on them, even if her skin wouldn’t get rid of a sticky sensation. She smiled appreciatively.

“It does add a nice forest-y touch to your scent,” she commented with a sly grin, wiggling her fingers at him. She hadn’t prepared herself for him to clamp her hand in his stained fingers, a new smudge juice now printed on her wrist. Emma breathed out slowly, hyper aware of his body, inches away from hers, solid and warm at her back. Always just one step away, she thought, with a rush of combined thrill and anxiety that warmed her skin, making her fingers itch to reach out.

He locked eyes with hers, and brought her hand to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Why, thank you. I’ll make sure to scrub myself in the shower with raspberries from now on.”

She could feel her entire body flush at the way he looked at her, his words going through her, until she freed her hand from his grasp, murmuring an excuse about them getting behind and not wanting to be left without any food once they arrived. He followed her without a word, the crunching sound of their feet on the leaf-covered ground almost eerie as their soundtrack.

Even though she was pretty sure the hammering of her heart was deafening enough.

* * *

****  
  


By nine o’clock, everybody had successfully freshened up, changed clothes and properly cleaned up wounds in Killian’s case. They had decided to have dinner outside, seeing as it wasn’t cold and there was far more room than in the kitchen or living room. Aurora and Mary Margaret had devised a rather meticulous schedule for everybody to follow during the weekend in which they had assigned shifts to cook and clean up the kitchen, to nobody’s surprise; they had always been organised - not to say fair - that way. To say that dinner was not a quiet affair would be an understatement, but they somehow managed not to cause too much of a commotion as they passed dishes around and wine and beer disappeared in a steady flow. Conversation was easy and light, and for a while Emma felt herself relax, just enjoying the company and pleasant hum that the familiarity that being with her friends brought her. She craned her neck up to gaze at the nightsky, amazed at how different it was to look at from there, in the middle of nowhere, instead of from home where the lights from both the town and campus didn’t really give much of an option to stargaze.

All in all, she was glad she’d come. Even if mixing wine and beer during her meal had probably not been her wisest move.

She had no idea what time it was when Elsa’s head fell against her shoulder, startling her. Her friend had been leaning against her for a while now, huddling closer as if to chase off the cold (which was hilarious, because Elsa was never cold, the girl could walk around wearing nothing but a tank top in the middle of a blizzard and she wouldn’t even notice) but this time Emma looked at her, taking notice of the tired expression on her face.

“Elsa, you’re falling asleep.”

“I’m not,” she slurred, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“You’re practically on top of me.”

“And that counts as first base, you know,” Victor pronounced solemnly.

Emma and Elsa both rolled her eyes at him, more out of habit than anything else. “I just get really sleepy when I drink wine,” Elsa explained, gesturing towards the empty bottle that the both of them had drained sitting in front of their finished pasta. Emma patted her blonde head warmly, hiding a smile at the defeat in her voice.

“Well, let’s make sure you don’t drink any tomorrow, okay? It’s been a long day.”

She gave her a soft shove, until Elsa made a displeased sound at the back of her throat and finally caved in, standing from her seat. She picked up her dirty plate, rubbing her free hand over her eyes and giving her a pleading look. “Don’t make fun of me while I’m asleep.”

“Not making any promises!” Kristoff said, putting up his hands in front of him before Emma could say anything. She gave them the stink eye, ignoring their high fives and fist bumps and ridiculous comebacks, and instead gripped Elsa’s hand in hers warmly.

“Nah. I won’t let them.”

Elsa smiled back, sleepy and more than a little tipsy, and gripped her hand back before letting go and getting inside the house. “Thank you Emma. You’re the best. I’ll wait for you in bed.”

“I’m enjoying every second of this, let me tell you.” There was a loud slapping sound and Victor’s pained ‘ow’, and the night resumed its flow of conversation and general merriment, if not aided by the alcohol consumed. At some point, Philip went back into the house to retrieve a guitar that his brothers had convinced him to bring for the weekend, under the promise that they’d probably have singalongs around a fire. Emma didn’t see a fire - not yet, if they were lucky, at least, - but she didn’t voice her protests, seeing as they all followed Philip’s leading voice. Ruby jumped from her seat to settle herself on her lap, and Emma sighed defeatedly, until she too was singing along to anything and everything that the KT played - from an overheard Wonderwall to the Power Ranger theme song.  

“That’ll probably keep the beasts away,” Mulan commented as they finished their rendition to Party in the USA. Emma fought back a snort to no avail.  

“Kappa Taus: The beast whisperers.”

Philip put a hand over the neck of the guitar, staring closely at them. “Is that your nickname for us?”

The girls looked at each other and promptly burst into a fit of delighted giggles. Ruby and Emma almost toppled to the floor as their chair shook uncontrollably, they were laughing so hard. From the corner of her watering eyes, she spied Killian and August scowling at Kristoff. Aurora pointed her finger at Philip, trying to talk over their laughing.

“You were right! They don’t know and it’s killing them!”

August scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, resembling for all purposes a bluffing 5 year-old kid.  “We don’t care. And you don’t know our nickname for you!”

Ruby lifted a finger, calling for their attention. “Actually, we do.” At the uneasy glance that they shared, Emma snickered again, and followed it by making a distinctive quacking noise. Her sisters followed her lead, until Victor had to go over their side of the table and clamp his hand over Ruby’s lips so she’d stop. At Ruby’s outraged protests, he kissed her, and even if she grumbled something about him being an idiotic caveman, it worked its charm, their collective quacking now silenced.

On the other side of the table, Killian was shaking his head at his former president. “Really, Kristoff?”

“They’re masters of persuasion!” he tried, only prompting a new round of giggles from the girls.

Needless to say, their nagging about the secret nickname went on for hours until they agreed on playing to find out. Emma should have known by now that she shouldn’t let herself be goaded into any kind of competition with these guys, but just by the tilt of Killian’s head or the way he smirked at her made her resolve fly out of the proverbial window.

At four AM, they were all on their way to drunk lane, tears streaming down their faces with laughter and having found out each and every one of the name they’d been baptized with behind their backs since the day they had set foot on campus.

Heads up to whoever had come up with ‘hookers’ for the Kappa Taus. That one got her good.

After a quick clean-up of their dinner leftovers, they moved to the west side of the deck, where there was, to Emma’s surprise, a swimming pool (Anna hadn’t mentioned that, but seeing as she got pretty distracted as she started talking, Emma wasn’t complaining about it). Aurora quickly shucked off her boots, dipping her toe under the surface and promptly seating on the edge after claiming it was rather warm, with her swinging feet now underwater. They all huddled around, chucking what was left of their drinks as they went, and Emma frowned at her cup, morosely quoting to herself Jack Sparrow’s why’s the rum always gone.

Instead of pouting at her empty cup, she probably should have been paying attention to the whisper exchanged between the KTs. Alas, in her mind, beer was way more important than whatever those idiots could come up with.

“So, Zeta Beta Zetas… we need scientific proof about something,” Jefferson started conversationally.

The girls frowned in unison, staring confusedly at them. “About what?”

She knew she should have guessed beforehand that all the teasing would end up like that, though. August, Jefferson and Philip tackling Aurora and Mulan, whereas Kristoff took Anna by the hand and David embraced Mary Margaret by the waist, their last words before throwing them to the water being, “If ducklings can swim!”

Emma’s heart missed a beat when she found herself still at the edge of the pool, and not, you know, inside with the rest of them. Especially when she counted and there was someone missing.

It definitely stopped beating at the warm breath tickling her neck the next second. “Swans definitely do.”

She craned her neck to look at him, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he closed the space between them. “If I’m going down, you’re going down with me,” she breathed, the space between them crackling with the tension that was becoming ridiculously hard to ignore. She took a deep breath, and noticed he did as well.

She wished she could say she didn’t scream as she felt his hands going to her hips, or that her arms didn’t immediately locked around his neck to drag him with her - not that he even tried to pry himself away from her, mind you. They fell and the shock of the cold water on her skin made her gasp, Killian’s arm still enveloping her, the heat of his body clashing with the cold gripping her. She broke the surface panting heavily, moving wet clumps of hair from her face and ready to lash out at this idiot and his stupidity and everything he represented, and as she whirled around to start her tirade, she froze - and not just from the cold.

There were few things that could render her speechless, that she knew of.

A wet Killian Jones, sadly, was one of them.

And from the way his gaze was searing through her, she’d say she had the same effect on him.

“Maybe not a duckling or a swan, but a bloody mermaid? That, you are,” he said softly.

If it were anyone else, such a declaration might have made her roll her eyes or snicker at such a ridiculously cliché line, but instead it sent a thrill of warmth through her. But she couldn’t really find a way to let him know that his words - and pretty much everything he did, really, - affected her in such a way.

Emma was someone who relied on actions instead of words. So she did what she did best: she acted.

She jumped at him, her hands going to his shoulders as she attempted to keep him underwater, grinning madly at his protests. After all, he had called her a mermaid.

* * *

****  
  
  


Donning a borrowed shirt and pajama pants from Anna and trying to dry her hair with a too-small towel she had found in the bathroom where at least five people have been huddled in trying to brush their teeth at the same time, Emma faced the door to Elsa’s room. She cautiously opened it, trying with all her might to be quiet in order not to wake her roommate, seeing at it was extraordinarily late - or maybe early in the morning would be more appropriate.

What she hadn’t expected was to find her friend laying on the bed playing on her phone, already dressed for the day. “What are you doing?”

Elsa gave her a look, locking her phone and stuffing it into her pocket. “I woke up earlier - you guys definitely  know how to make an entrance.”

Emma tried to protest, but to be fair, their entrance had been indeed memorable - and probably noisy as hell. But in her defense, try to convince Jefferson to drop Mulan as he carried her around and offering her as a human sacrifice to whoever he crashed into.

Subtlety? Zero.

“I’m sorry.” Emma muttered, covering her forehead with one hand. Elsa jumped to her feet, going to her to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, I slept like the dead before that.”

That made her smile, throwing a hungry look at the unmade bed, full of promises of dreamless sleep and peace for the next couple of hours at the very least. “Well, I guess it’s my turn now.”

“And you have the entire bed for you. Some may consider this a gift.”

“You got the same perks, sister.”

Elsa grinned, well-rested and beaming. “True.” She walked over to their shared wardrobe, rummaging through it for a moment to pick up her coat. “I’m gonna drive to town and buy some stuff for later and maybe watch a movie in my aunt’s bureau. I’ll see you when you have some sleep, okay?”

Emma waved her hand at her, not really listening but too focused on how warm the sheets were as she slipped into bed, pulling the comforter over her and almost moaning in delight. “Cool. Goodnight.”

Who cared if it was morning already and some idiotic bird was singing like its life depended on it, really.

She definitely missed Elsa’s choked laugh as she slipped from the room, quietly closing the door behind her. “Sweet dreams.”

What she didn’t miss, though, was the sound of the door opening and someone’s footsteps coming increasingly closer, or the prickling feeling of being observed what felt like seconds later. She opened one bleary eye as she turned on her side to look up at the intruder.

“What are you doing in my bed?” Killian inquired, giving her his best what the fuck, Swan look.

Emma didn’t so much as twitch. “Excuse me? This is my bed.”

“This has been my bedroom since I first came here for Kristoff’s parties last year.”

She was still clearly half asleep, or she’d have reminded him that she’d been assigned that bed for the weekend and he could kindly fuck off. Instead, she just yawned. “Well, not tonight. Bye Jones.” She pulled the comforter over her head until it was dark again and there was no way for her to deal with those too-blue-for-this-early eyes of his.

...the same comforter that was pried away from her hands, her protests dying in her throat when she saw him giving her an incredulous look. “Seriously? You’re gonna let me sleep on the floor with August and Philip?”

“It’s not my fault!” She huffed, appalled. Great, she was mostly 85% awake now and was able to form some sort of coherent speech - which included arguing with Killian fucking Jones, who was actively trying to steal her bed.

She didn’t know if she enjoyed the fact that he looked quite agitated himself. “I didn’t say it was!”

“I just - don’t think it’s a good idea if... you know,” she said, feeling defensive - like she always did around him. Even when she’d done nothing wrong, which she hadn’t; so there was no reason for her to feel guilty.

Her tone brought him to a halt, hand curling into a fist and lips thinning as he stared at the floor. “I’m not gonna try to jump you, Swan.”

“I didn’t say you were,” she protested weakly, rubbing nervously at her neck. When she peeked back up at him, he looked like he was torn between fleeing, laughing or calling for medical help.

To her relief, he just sighed, awkwardly shuffling on his feet. She could guarantee she was his vivid reflection but instead of standing she had bent on herself, balled up and trying to cover as much of herself with the sheets.

“You’re right though. I - I’ll just leave,” he said, hand already turning the handle and ready to go.

“Wait.” She froze, afraid and angry at herself because what the hell was she even doing. When he turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow in question, she lamely waved at the bed. “The bed’s big enough. We don’t need to...”

“We’re not cuddling, Swan. It’s just sleeping together. Like - real sleeping. On the same bed. No funny business,” he stammered, sort of gently, like he was addressing a tiny, scared child.

It may have been the indecision in his voice, or the way he kept wringing his hands behind him - yet she knew he was, - or how his foot was already backing down as if he knew he’d be rejected.

She had no idea what was the good call to make in such a situation. She had no clue what she was supposed to do.

Oh, fuck it. She had never been good at making decisions, anyway.

Instead of, like, ‘making it official’ by saying something or verbally acquainting to it, she just pulled back the covers, as a silent invitation. She was more than a little startled when, instead of walking over to her, he started walking around the bed.

“Where are you going?”

She noticed for the first time that he was wearing those striped pajamas he favored, - the ones his friends had given him as a joke two Christmases ago so he’d ‘stop showing off that ass around’, - as he threw her a glance when he left his phone on his bedside table. “I don’t want to find myself on the floor after you’ve pushed me so you can stay on the left side, Swan. I know you favor that one.”

After that, he practically dove onto the mattress. It bounced and creaked too loudly for Emma’s purpose, flashes of their friends’ teasing if they heard making her cringe and regret her decision already, but then she could feel him laying there, just inches from her, carefully keeping to the right side.

She didn’t dare move a muscle, too afraid, the anticipation crackling in the air. She tried to tell herself it’d be fine - it had to be, right? Right? - but then Victor’s words from before about unexpected sex and whatever else he’d said came back full force, and she fought back a whine.

But this wouldn’t be unexpected sex right? I mean, this would be the least surprising sex ever in the history of sexcapades, Jesus. They were sharing a bed, how unexpected would that be? Unexpected sex would be something like them locked up in a narrow closet and getting it on, or at the pool or some beautiful undiscovered lake somewhere near there, or on the kitchen counter while the rest of the group were sleeping and why the hell was she thinking about this, she desperately thought as she clenched her thighs together. She was going to murder Victor.

“Just for the record I wasn’t planning on borrowing ‘your’ bed, but Jeff and I were supposed to share the one in the next room but he has barricaded himself in there and won’t let me in,” he added all of a sudden, bringing her back to the present - thank God, - and snapping out of his statuesque pose on the bed.

“What a jerk,” she supplied.  

“I know.”

Every inch of skin on her body suddenly felt like she had been lying out in the sun for too long. Her breathing evened out after she started counting in her head - sheep, ticks of the clock, she had no idea at this point, - yet the tension around them kept getting far more charged that she could have even imagined.

“So.”

“So.”

“Nothing weird here. At all.” He sounded like he was trying not to laugh again. She shoved at him instead of scolding him; the words seemed like too much effort at the moment.

“Not awkward.”

“Definitely.”

The unspoken hummed loudly between them, and Emma was almost tempted to ask him exactly what it was that they were trying so desperately not to say, to keep to themselves, but she was suddenly afraid to hear the answer.

Or admit it herself.

(She was such a coward - and wasn’t that what had gotten them here in the first place?)

“We should probably try to sleep.”

“As long as you don’t snore.”

“I don’t snore,” she protested indignantly.

This wasn’t going at all how she’d planned to spend her first night in that house. She hadn’t signed for a talkative fratboy as her bed companion - especially one whose scent practically assaulted her, or whose eyes shone dimly even after draping the blue curtains (of course they were blue) over the window, leaving them in cloaked darkness.

“It’s not snoring. It’s like… you make this weird sound sometimes. Like clucking your tongue against the roof of your mouth.”

“I do not.”

(She did not.) (Ruby would have said something if she did.) (She so did not.)

“Yeah, you do.”

“Well, you talk in your sleep.” she retorted with a huff. He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, and she smirked in response.

“Not too much.”

“Once you tried to punch me.”

“I apologized for that.”

“Well, just try not to wake me up ranting about the LOST finale this time.”

“You’re so whiny,” he claimed, loud with frustration, trailing off abruptly when she snagged his wrist and pulled him a little bit too close to properly shove at him, almost sending him stumbling a little into her chest.

“Look who’s talking.”

Her voice cracked all of a sudden when the situation sank in, both lying side by side in the darkness. She prayed not to look too caught up in the moment, or too vulnerable, heartbreakingly broken and still drunk off her blonde head. (Look at her, looking for excuses for her behavior in a shared bed with the guy she had feelings for, who probably had feelings for her, both of whom had no idea what to do.)

(The answer was pretty simple.)

(Definitely not sleep.)

(Talk.)

* * *

“Did you see that cowhide carpet out there?” His voice was merely a whisper, his warm breath caressing her face after he had begged for her to crawl under the sheet with him to ‘set a proper mood’ for storytelling. “Kristoff told us legend says its rightful owner still roams around these woods, searching for it to be complete… and take vengeance on those who took it in the first place. Or whoever is using it, stepping on it as if it’s nothing.” He paused, “You can still hear her sad, sorrowful mooing in the night…”

“You’re making that up.”  Emma muttered, shoving at his arm and trying not to sound too amused.

“I’m not.”

* * *

“Can you read that poster?” She pointed at the corner of the room, where a large poster with a design she didn’t recognize decorated the wall. Killian huffed, appalled.

“Of course I can.”

“Then read it,” she urged, but he shook his head, tightening the sheet around himself.

“No.”

She barked out a laugh, grinning triumphantly. “I knew it! You are nearsighted.”

His arm was instantly poking her side, and she fought a squeal because of course he went for the tickling spot. “It’s not that. I mean it’s in French.”

Emma frowned, looking back at the poster and reading the words once more. “Oh,” she conceded lamely.

“Yeah. It says something about a Da Vinci collection in the Louvre and I won’t butcher it up because I can admit I do not speak French.”

Emma bit on her lip in order not to laugh. They made fun of his accent alright, so it was no wonder he didn’t want to try another one for them to pick up on. “Elsa does speak it. Maybe that’s why she has it.”

There was a pause, as they both tasted the unfamiliar words on their tongues, silent and loud. She turned on her side to properly look at him. “What language do you think bilingual people dream in?”

He sighed, long and thoughtful. Shrugging slowly, he looked at her with a barely-seen grin. “In dreams, I don’t believe you dream in words.”

* * *

****  
  


“You have pianist hands.”

He shoved it until it was practically on her face, wiggling his fingers playfully. “And no pianist talent. Bad combo.”

She slapped it away, ignoring the tingling in her own as their skin brushed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But with such pretty, pianist hands.”

She muffled her laugh in their very shared, very blue pillow.

* * *

****  
  


“Ow!” She winced, stopping from moving her head and trying not to whine. Killian jumped.

“What?”

“Your arm is on my hair.”

With a muttered curse, he moved cautiously, almost afraid, freeing her tangled curls. Instead of shoving them away, he gathered them with a care that caught her by surprised them, rearranging them over the pillow so they didn’t get in their way or in her face. “Sorry.”

She was so caught up in the almost reverent way he had touched it, her voice came out unsteady. She coughed, masking her unease, or whatever it was she was feeling. “It’s okay - it’s a mess after it got all wet because someone threw me into the pool,” she said dryly. He grinned in response.

“It’s not a mess. It’s pretty.”

“It’s got a million knots now and it’ll be curly in the morning.” She looked gloomily at a curl that had fallen over her eyes, and she tugged on it, annoyed. She hoped Glittering Ingrid kept some conditioner in here or she’d be so screwed.

“Come on, Swan - you can pull off every damn hairdo ever.” She sensed that he wasn’t going to let this go, so she grudgingly shuffled on the bed until she was face to face with him, gritting her teeth and glaring at him. “Don’t you dare.”

Spoiler alert: he dared.

“Ponytail Swan days,” he practically sang, still looking far too smug for his own good.

Emma groaned. “Stop.”

“I’m actually complimenting you here.”

“Shut up.” It was almost systematic, instructing him to shut it once he tried to say anything nice about her.

He raised an eyebrow, considering her words and looking momentarily wistful. “You looked beautiful, come on.”

“Should I talk about your hair back then?” she replied, unapologetic. She inched closer, nesting the frozen tip of her nose on his collarbone.

At that, he scowled. “You play dirty.”

“Always do.”

“I’ll tickle you.”

Her whimper was actual Academy Award winning material. “Let’s talk _literally_ about anything else…”

* * *

They attempted to play clapping games. Attempt being the key word here, seeing as both of them had learned different versions of Eenie Meanie Sassaleeny and had no clue which one was the right one and had no way on agreeing which one to play. The only thing they finally agreed on was on said game being stupid. It was a start.

After that plan failed, they went on with guessing movie songs, which started out well enough until Killian called her out on her being tone deaf. She was so outraged she almost fell from the bed as she shoved him and flapped her hands in the air, all waving arms and grand gestures.

The end of the game came too abruptly when it was Emma’s turn to hum another one.

“Too easy. It’s your song.”

She stared at him, perplexed. “What?”

“Hercules - “I Won’t Say I’m in Love’, right?” He looked at her confusedly, as if it was A Thing that everybody knew, duh.

Emma’s smile felt tight on her lips. “Why would you say that?”

“You’ve always loved it, right?”

She pursed her lips, stubbornly refusing to break eye contact. “Oh. Right.”

Trying to mask her unease, she reminded him that it was his turn, and soon forgot about how he had picked up on that tiny detail and how it may or may not have been a jab at her current emotional distress. How could she, when he started singing ‘He’s A Tramp’ and pointing at himself.

Idiot.

* * *

****  
  


“Are you cold?” he asked after a while. She creased his brows, confused.

“No. Why?”

He shrugged. “You keep sniffing.”

Oops. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Runny nose?”

She tried to wave away his concern, covering her face as if it was nothing. (Which, incidentally, it was.) “No, no.”

She should have known, though, that he wouldn’t let it go. “What is it?”

“It’s just - you smell,” she blurted, unable to help herself, and feeling a blush creep up her chest. God. Killian froze, staring at her. Don’t back track, Emma ordered herself sternly, stay firm. Lock your jaw. Hold eye contact. Oh my God, I just told him he smelled, what is wrong with me.

With a rueful smile, he shook his head as if she had hit him. “Wow. Straight for the kill.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” she backpedalled quickly, and bit her tongue because seriously Emma just shut up already what are you even doing. First you tell him he smells and now you tell him he smells good. I mean - what?

His features softened, even with a touch of self-confidence that she was so used to see on him. Smug bastard. “Enjoying the raspberry touch, huh?”

There he was.

She rolled her eyes - and her body, pulling away so she didn’t have to face him (and he didn’t see how red she was getting, would she ever stop blushing). “Forget it.”

She squealed as his hands, cold as fuck, touched her hips, angling her towards him. “No, don’t worry Swan, I’ll make it even easier for you, here.” He brought her closer to him, until her head was practically tucked under his chin, having a rather close-up of that chest hair of his. “Just don’t bite me,” he warned with a snort.

Gulping as quietly as she could, she inched closer, silently amused at the way the goosebumps rising on the skin on his collarbone as she approached, inhaling, long and hard.

Berries. Right.

Emma took a deep breath and leaned against his arm, waiting until her heart calmed enough so that she could open her mouth without it leaping out.

Apparently satisfied, he pulled back to put some much-needed space between them. She was already settling on her side of the bed when she realized his arm was still snaked around her, and it wasn’t really letting go, but he was the one inching closer now.

“Quid pro quo time,” he said, and before she could really come to terms with what he meant, his nose was nosing at her neck, and she had to fight every urge she had of gasping out - or gripping that jet black hair of his so he wouldn’t move from there until he ravished her. “No raspberries on you,” he declared, nose still fixed to the sensitive skin under her ear.

“Nope. Just chlorine, I guess.” She tried for a smile, knowing it would probably come out more like a grimace. She was not that great with proportional body language when she was nervous. One of her biggest flaws, if she said so herself.

Blue eyes peeked up at her from under dark lashes and he blinked at her in disbelief before a timid grin tugged at his mouth. Her eyes flickered to his lips and she resisted the urge to tug on his bottom lip with her teeth (she knew he loved it), run her tongue against it and taste him.

But she didn’t.

Neither did he.

Instead, they stayed there, in that limbo of what ifs, excruciatingly aware of the other’s every move and overthinking every word unsaid and inhale of breath, fear of ruining the moment with the unknown.

He broke it, of course. For all he claimed he was a patient man, he had never been too subtle when it was her he was dealing with.

“It’s killing me not to touch you right now.”

Eyes fixed upon hers, she read nothing but honesty in him, and it was so hard to keep a straight face after such a declaration.

She didn’t say anything, even though she was trembling all over, her brain telling her not to move while her body screamed for her to go over and take him in her arms. Instead, her arm curled under the pillow, hugging it closer to her, and her lips curled when she saw him doing the same, their actions completely symmetrical, until the tips of their fingers brushed under the pillow.

She didn’t know why, but the fact that it was hidden - that she couldn’t properly see it, - made it easier to bear, this tension, this trepidation that wouldn’t let go and she couldn’t find in herself to break. And just like that, with the minimal contact they could possibly had in such close quarters, who knew what time later, she finally managed to doze off.

* * *

Eventually, - and by that she meant later in the morning, when someone’s loud singing in the shower from the bathroom was proof enough that the rest of the house was awake, - she became aware that he was nudging her with his foot. At first, as she tried to come to her bearings and take in her surroundings, she thought he was trying to wake her, but the steady breathing at the back of her neck was slow, peaceful. She lay awake in the sunlight as he slept, taking in his arm curled around her tightly and his body pressed up against hers as though she was a talisman he couldn’t bear to be without, wondering how she could have possibly thought she was over him.

At a particularly loud crash coming from the kitchen, though, he made a quiet, throaty sound, and she lay still, not really knowing what to say. She could imagine him, finding them curled up together even when they’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed, one of his arms at her hip keeping her flat against his chest. The way he was trying to quietly slip away - the warmth of his skin on hers leaving her bereft and cold, - as if afraid she was still asleep and she wouldn’t notice. Once he had withdrawn completely from her, she turned to look over her shoulder at him, and at his apologetic expression, she tentatively smiled at him.

He shrugged, slowly grinning back. “See? Impossible.”

* * *

****  
  


The rest of the day was a blur made up of loud college students, pranks, endless laughter and outdoor fun. They went on another expedition through the woods, with no straight-to-their-neck flying squirrels this time, and ended up having lunch near a stream that Anna took them to. It was pretty idyllic, Emma considered as she ate her sandwich - carefully wrapped in blue napkins, courtesy of Elsa of course - but overall was something she hadn’t done in, like, forever. She was content to lay on the ground with her sisters, drinking in the sunshine and warm air while the boys played with a frisbee David had brought with him.

As she laid there, she tried not to notice the way she could feel Killian’s eyes raking over her, and if she let her shirt ride up over her belly, muttering an excuse about getting an early tan, she wouldn’t admit it.

She also wouldn’t share with Ruby, when she asked her why was she smiling, that she kept thinking about how Killian had made her laugh throughout the morning by mooing when she stepped on the cowhide carpet.

The walk back was uneventful, and after a lot of awwing and staring, Emma concluded that   Kristoff and Anna ranked as one of the most disgustingly cute couples she had ever met in her life, and that was saying something - especially from someone who lived with Mary Margaret. It was weird, at first, to reconcile the idea she’d had of Kristoff from his days on campus when she had met him back in freshman year and seeing him now, carrying Anna around on piggyback rides and cracking up ‘that’s what she said’ jokes with the boys the next second. He had an air about him, more mature, more centered, but without losing that aura that had granted him the presidency of the most laid back house on campus back home.

(Home. Even if being here for the weekend had been a breath of fresh air - quite literally - she still felt that pang of longing.)

(Lost girls valued the little things, and home was one of them.)

After dinner, when she came out of the shower after waiting patiently for her turn, she found half of the group perched on the stone bench by the firepit, roasting marshmallows. They greeted her when she showed up at the door, waving merrily and, in Victor’s case, gesturing obscenely with his stick. What else was new.

She sat down at Elsa’s side, taking hers to pick up a marshmallow and pop it in her mouth, moaning softly. She frowned as she saw the way Elsa kept pouting, throwing wary glances at the fire.

August must have noticed it too as he sat right in front them, and gave her a sidelong glance. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing.”

Anna sniggered, bumping her shoulder with her sister. “She prefers the cold. She’s weird that way.”

“Shut up,”  Elsa snapped, blushing furiously. Noticing the way everybody stared at her, she threw her hand in the air dramatically. “I don’t know, okay? It’s just a thing, I guess.”

They all made themselves scarce after that, not really wanting to upset her - having witnessed an angry Elsa back at campus had been enough that one time, they didn’t need a second performance, - and when Anna joined Emma as she went in search of napkins for their sticky fingers, she murmured quietly, “Like I said: weird.”

As the night progressed, she felt her eyes wandering in Killian’s direction at every turn she could - which could be considered creepy, she guessed, but seeing as how he was being as subtle as a punch to the gut when he stared back at her, she really didn’t think so. Elsa kept elbowing her and nudging her in his direction, being her own kind of sparkly blue subtle self, but Emma just elbowed her back, giving her a silent warning to quit it.

(Spoiler: she didn’t.)

Instead, she asked Aurora to hit play on the stereo until music filled the outer deck, and, to Emma’s dismay, she jumped to her feet and dragged her along with her. Emma fought to stay sitting, gripping her cup like her life depended on it, but Ruby and Mulan joined Elsa’s crusade, struggling with her until they almost toppled to the ground. Once Emma got free, she blinked, astounded, when she found almost everybody jumping and swaying to the beat. Philip span Anna around as Kristoff got his arms slung over Victor and Killian’s shoulder, singing to the chorus. David and Mary Margaret could have been waltzing for all that it seemed, staring into each other’s eyes as if they held the answer to the universe, and the rest…

The rest had gone wild.

She shrugged and, finishing her drink in one gulp, joined them.

If someone asked her how she ended up palm to palm and swaying around the fire with Killian an hour later, spinning in circles around each other, drawing nearer and nearer until his hands were at her hips and she couldn’t tell if the heat that coursed through her was from the firepit or his body, she couldn’t tell. She snorted to herself at how sparks literally flew around them, the music fading out as the only sound she focused on was his laugh and his labored breath as they kept spinning around and around. She was dizzy - from the heat or the dancing or just him, she didn’t know. Time slowed down, and she couldn’t tell left from right, right from wrong. She met his eyes, the raw longing and hunger in them as he stared back. Firelight fell behind his head like some sort of halo, and for a moment she’d swear she heard angels singing from the speakers as she stood there, transfixed, ogling him.

And falling for him all over again.

(Not like she hadn’t known that, but still. Having those life-changing realizations in such a romcom scenario was always a plus.)

He offered to accompany her to her room - where Elsa had already fled earlier, as Emma and a couple of them cleaned their mess after their impromptu night dance party - joking quietly about it being the Hunger Games for him that night fighting over the most comfortable couch in the living room. She didn’t mention that he wouldn’t have a chance to do so, seeing as he had preferred to walk with her instead.

Their footsteps were slow and steady as they neared their destination, and Emma’s hands played with the hem of her shirt the closer they got.

“So. This is my room,” she finally said, leaning with her back against the door and staring up at him. The corner of his lips curled as he considered the door, making a show of inspecting it closely.

“It appears it is.”

She bit her lip, looking down at her feet and _God_ wasn’t she the post-date blushing fanning herself poster girl. “Thank you for walking me down two halls and a set of stairs.”

He dipped his head in a little bow. “It was the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Laughing softly, she found the courage to stare right at him, taking in the way his hair fell over his forehead and how his Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped. With another ridiculous bow of his and his good form crap, he stepped back, and smiled softly at her. “Good night, Swan.”

She saw him walk away, giving her one last glance over his shoulder, almost boyish. Her own farewell all but forgotten, she found herself frozen in place, because, despite being exhausted, she didn’t _want_ him to go. What she really, _really_ wanted was to spend the night with him again - no offense to Elsa as a bed partner or anything, but, yeah, girl’s got needs, - and play silly games and try to pronounce French words and tell him about that horrible teacher of hers and hear about his Astronomy class and wake up with him cradling her with the steady sound of his heartbeat under her cheek.

“Wait,” she found herself saying. “What if the evil cow ghost shows up?”

He stopped and looked back at her, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’ll handle yourself.”

She pulled away from the door, approaching him with slow and measured steps. “What if it goes after you and I’m not there to protect you?”

“I’ll scream until you come to my aid.” He had started walking back to her, until both of them were face to face, close enough to touch.

Not knowing what else to say - what were they even talking about, her brain had almost spazzed out, she just wanted to make the night longer - she shrugged, nodding to herself. “Okay.”

His jaw did _that_ thing - that muscle on his cheek jumping as it always did when he was nervous or upset. “You could always give me a token of your favor, as princesses did to their knights before battle.”

She grinned, biting back a laugh at the hopeful look in his eyes. “If it goes after me, you do realize I’ll be the knight and you’ll be the princess.”

“As long as there is a token, I don’t care about labels.”

The air sizzled between them, an unspoken challenge hanging in the open.

She had always loved challenges.

“Come here,” she commanded. He inched even closer, and, on a whim, she took off a hairband she always wore on her wrist. It was plain and black and nothing fancy, but it’d do. She took his hand and pulled it over his fingers until it sat on his wrist. “There.”

She looked up from his arm to find him staring at her, so fiercely she was afraid she’d automatically combust. He gave her a lopsided grin, even though the intensity with which he kept looking at her didn’t leave his eyes. “I feel incredibly braver now. Thank you.”

Butterflies flared in her stomach and a slow smile worked its way over her face, tilting her lips and crinkling her eyes. “What about me?”

He cocked his head to the side. “What about you?”

“Where’s my token?”

There was a second in which she thought that it had been all in her head - that he really didn’t want to, as if she wasn’t being obvious enough, as if he would leave her there, hanging and heartbroken over the most ridiculous plea for a kiss she’d ever heard of in her entire life.

Thankfully, Killian had never been one to leave her. He was more of the ‘come back for her’ type, and she had never loved him more than then for that.

She closed her eyes and forgot about everything that wasn’t the heat of his mouth and the gentle pressure of his hands as he took her in his arms, kissing her for the first time since the start of the school year. It felt like their first kiss all over again, - and maybe it was. She was a Brand New Emma Swan, and he was… Killian. Her Killian. The one who kissed her like she was an enigma that he would never get tired of trying solving, the one who held her against him, with an unspoken promise not to let her down.

She tipped her head back in silent encouragement for him to deepen the kiss, and he eagerly complied. They ended up pressed against the wall, her fingers tangled in his hair as his arms circled her waist.

As first-second kisses went, it was fucking A+.

He was still smiling when they broke apart, and she pulled back to gulp back some air, laughing breathlessly. He squeezed her hips playfully, breathing against the top of her head, ruffling the hair by her ear.

“That should do,” he said, in that low voice he used sometimes when they were talking late at night on the phone back when they were together, or the night before hiding under the covers, or to whisper sweet nothings in her hair after making love. The voice that made her go weak in the knees and wish to grab a handful of his shirt and crash his lips to hers.

“I hope so.” They didn’t even think about it, really - it just felt like instinct, for him to lean down, for her to tilt her face up and kiss again. “Good night.”

He smiled softly at her, brushing a curl out of her face with utter care. “Good night.”

Still reeling from their shared moment and biting her lip - and secretly tasting him on her tongue - she span on her heel, walking back to the room. She hadn’t even taken two steps when she whirled around almost unconsciously. “What if evil cow ghost's powers are way more powerful because it’s a full moon and…”

And he was already there, cutting her off with another kiss and squeezing her cheeks between his palms and crowding her up against the wall beside Elsa’s room - oh _God_ , what if she was listening, she was never going to hear the end of this - but she really didn’t care as long as he slanted his mouth over hers. She was left breathless when he pulled away, squinting up at him, trying to see his face in the darkened corridor, the only light coming through the night sky from the window shining in her eyes and turning him into shadow.

He pulled reluctantly back from her, nipping at her lip one last time and at her protesting whimper she could practically taste his smile, breathed from his mouth to hers. She tugged on the charms hanging from his neck to keep him from leaving, and they stayed there, swaying to some silent music that only the two of them could hear, made of second chances and hopeful smiles. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her chin, the way in which he mapped her face with his eyes almost reverent. It made her feel bare, precious - venerated.

With a reluctant sigh, he stepped away from her, even if his hand was still encasing hers, fingers entangled. The cold metal of his ring seared through her skin. “The couch is waiting for me.” He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles, eyes focused on hers. “See you tomorrow.”

She didn’t trust her ability to form any coherent speech after such a whirling of events - and a pretty heavy makeout session. She nodded, even though her fingers didn’t really want to let go from his, keeping him anchored by her side. “Right. Tomorrow.”

As she saw him go, she thought about how she had learned to read kisses. Passionate, hot, lustful clashes of mouths that screamed of _I need you_. Soft, languid ones that whispered of promises and heartful confessions. Sweet, short pecks that read simple _love ya_.

This one simply said _good night_ , and tasted of hope and marshmallows.

(Elsa _totally_ heard, and they spent the next hour talking in hushed whispers under the comforter, giggling like schoolgirls and gossiping.)

(When she changed back into her PJs, she found a condom inside her back pocket.) (Fucking Kristoff.)

****  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

Not that Emma wasn’t used to sleepovers with her friends and waking up to elbows hitting her or hair in each other’s mouths, but opening her eyes to find Elsa openly beaming at her wasn’t really what she had been expecting.

But then, she hadn’t expected the previous night to happen, and here they were.

She closed her eyes again once she noticed Elsa poking her softly with her fingers, voice annoyingly cheerful drifting to her ears.

“Good mooooooorniiiiiiiiing.”

Emma groaned. “Someone’s chirpy today.”

“Someone should be chirpy today,” Elsa pointed out, and Emma bit back another groan. She knew it had been coming, but then, she was so not looking forward to the teasing.

“I can be happy without puking sunlight and staging a musical number as I rise from the bed, you know.”

(She wouldn’t be too surprised if Elsa turned out to be one of those who sang Disney songs and animals around her would do her bidding, like doing the chores or bringing her breakfast to bed.)

“Uh huh. Whatever you say.” Suddenly she clapped, and Emma jumped, startled at the show of insistence and energy. “So. Day plans.”

Emma looked at her. “We’re leaving today right?”

Elsa’s face fell, lips pouting dramatically as she hugged a pillow to her chest. “Yeah. Sadly.”

“We still have the morning here though, and then Robin and the others are coming too, and tonight, we go back,” she countered back trying to cheer her friend up. Elsa and pouting didn’t really mix well.

Elsa considered her words, cocking her head to the side, until she nodded. “Good.” Throwing the pillow at her, she went rummaging through her bag next to her frantically. “Get dressed.”

“Anything else, your Highness?” Emma drawled, still not bothering to get out of the bed. Elsa huffed, her slim hands automatically settling on her hips as she gave her a considering look. With a triumphant sound, she walked to the dresser, picking out a shirt and skirt and throwing them at her.

“Yeah, actually. Wear this with this.”

Emma  gave her a confused look. “Why?”

“Because there is a hot guy down there…”

“…who has seen me through all-nighters before finals, hangover, and looking my absolute worst. Nothing can faze him.”

Elsa groaned. “Stop being prickly for once.”

“I’m prickly?”

Elsa turned to pout at her - again. Girl was pushing her limits, that was for sure. “Come on. For me?”

Admitting defeat, she stomped towards her friend and snatched the clothes from her, growling unnecessarily under her breath, “You’re weird.”

After they had freshened up, gotten dressed and fought over Elsa braiding her hair or not, - ‘What about a french braid?’ ‘No’ ‘Fishtail braid’ ‘No’ ‘A braided crown!’ ‘Elsa. No braids today.’ ‘See how you are prickly?’ - they made their way into the kitchen. When they got there, Emma frowned, expecting a decently-sized group of people fleeting around. Instead, she was faced with Kristoff, who just hummed at their arrival as he played Candy Crush on his phone, and Anna, who dipped her muffin morosely in her chocolate. “Where’s everybody?”

Kristoff gave her a look. “Call me rude, but I don’t really fancy knocking on doors where couples may be getting it on, or just plain sleeping naked.”

Elsa and Emma exchanged identical grimaces. “That’s… strangely gentlemanly coming from you, Kristoff,” Elsa commented, patting him on the shoulder as she joined her sister at the table. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Nice, sister.”

“What about the rest who are… not sleeping in coupley arrangements?” Emma asked, and ignored the knowing look Kristoff failed to send her.

(It wasn’t like she had specifically asked about Killian, but for the way he acted, it pretty much appeared like she had.)

“Snoring peacefully,” he explained, and promptly hid something behind his back. Emma raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. She had known him far too long to ignore the glint in those eyes of him.

With a muffled laugh, he showed her a can of shaving cream, shaking it in his hand. “...until I come in, that is. Join me?”

She grinned, linking arms with him. “How could I not?”

They ignored Anna and Elsa’s giggles as they padded as quietly as they could towards the living room, where, true fact, snoring could be heard. She had to smother her laughing by shoving her sleeve in her mouth when she spied August’s hand dramatically draped over his forehead, whereas Jefferson had curled into a ball, hugging a pillow to his chest tightly. She tried not to stare too much at Killian’s peaceful face as he reclined his head on the couch’s armrest, hand pillowing his face. Emma and Kristoff fought in hushed whispers about who they should attack first - “But I wanted to paint a new beard on them!” “They all have beards Kristoff!” “I clearly haven’t thought this through” - until he gave up and went for the first unsuspecting victim who was nearest to them, lips parted and aforementioned scruff catching the light entering through the window.

Poor Philip. She didn’t think he had been dreaming of such a wake up call.

Seconds after Kristoff painted his face with the cream, Philip started squirming in his place, until he opened bleary eyes and his face twisted in a horrified grimace. “Dude!”

Kristoff attempted to shove some more at him but found himself tackled to the ground as his victim threw himself at him. He pathetically squealed at Emma for help, but she was too busy laughing at his newly painted face, waking up the rest.

Her amusement was brief, though, as someone tackled her from behind until she was caged against a very warm, solid, and definitely male body splayed on the couch. She wiggled in his grasp in an attempt to get free, or so she told herself as she recognized the bracelets on his wrists or the scent that overwhelmed her, familiar and heady and just his. She heard him snorting right in her ear, the huff of his breath hitting the skin leading to her neck, and she tried to reign in her shiver. Concluding that she’d be better off if she just stayed still until he opted to release her, she stopped moving, relaxing in his arms. His hand came to rest on her hip, rolling her to her side until they were face to face.

Neither of them paid the ongoing shaving cream war taking place in the same room any mind.

He looked down at her, smiling lazily. “Hi.”

She bit her lip and tried to keep her voice as steady as possible, despite the fact that his fingers kept hovering dangerously close to the skin of her waist. “Morning.”

“How did you sleep?”

Not as good as last night. She half-shrugged, or what could count as shrugging in her position pinned down to the couch. “Good.”

“As good as the night before?”

She flashed him a sweet smile, fighting back a pleased laugh. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”

His face pulled away from her minimally in order to clear his throat. “Kristoff, pass the shaving cream, Swan wants a full shave…” She interrupted him by rolling around until she was over him, clamping her hand over his mouth.

“Don’t even try.”

It didn’t take long for the others to notice them there, and before she knew it she was being shoved down the couch so he could take the brunt of the shaving cream. Even if the lovely bruise on her knee wasn’t something she had agreed to, at least she didn’t have to take another shower to wash off her hair of man products.

(She thanked him for it before he left for the bathroom, peppermint and rum on his breath as she pecked him sweetly, running down to finally get her breakfast before he pinned her to the wall and didn’t let her go.)

Said moment was, unfortunately, witnessed by Jefferson, who didn’t waste a second running down the stairs to share with the rest. Not that they were overly surprised, mind you - all except David, probably, who tended to be kind of slow for the gossip and latest developments in the love department, - but that didn’t mean she wasn’t getting really tired really fast of all the teasing. As soon as Killian came back from his shower, his brothers cheered and clapped loudly, some of them whistling and requesting bumpfists as he passed them to go to the kitchen.

She just hid her face behind her cup, lamenting her choice of friends.  

Sadly, it didn’t really stop there, even when they specifically told them to please drop it. Like the asses they were, they kept pulling at their so-called metaphorical pigtails, enjoying their squirming and flushing a little too much. Translated to college students behavior, that equaled them making fun of their every glance exchanged, smile shared, conversation had and brush of skin on skin - also called Killian being the ‘gentleman’ he always claimed to be and helping her pick up the cereal from an upper shelf, hand at her hip and the other over hers on the counter. At that, she turned her head to stare up at him, a ‘thank you’ on the tip of her tongue but cut off as his face dipped down until their noses booped.

She about melted.

So did her friends, from the swooning ‘awwww’s behind them.

The Kappa Taus gagged loudly instead.

“You two are disgusting,” Victor declared, munching on his toast. Killian turned, hand still at her side, unwilling to let go.

“Oi! If I recall…”

Not willing to put up with another epic ‘who is more of a wuss’ pissing contest between them, she put a hand on Killian’s chest, turning towards him and giving him a significant look. “We are, aren’t we? Come here.” Bunching his shirt in her hand, she pulled on it dramatically until her mouth crashed on his. A new chorus of mixed cooing and groans echoed behind them, but if their earlier PDA show had been kept to a minimum, she let go of her embarrassment and just kept enthusiastically kissing him, pleased at his reaction.

She almost missed the loud scraping of chairs and lull of conversation as the group left, taunts and guffawing becoming quieter as they walked out of the kitchen. She was almost sorry for her excuse to keep kissing him from leaving, but after a while, she sighed, slowly pulling away from him. Her voice was quiet as she spoke, lips pulling at the corners teasing a satisfied smile. “If you can’t beat them, join them, right?”

Killian mimicked her, beaming, and her breath almost caught at the sight. He tipped his forehead to hers, as if he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. “You’re bloody brilliant.”

“I know.”

“And humble, that too.”

“I knooow.”

He laughed again, tilting his head until his mouth brushed over hers softly, catching her bottom lip in his and pulling until she couldn’t help but moan at the contact. The counter pressed uncomfortably against her lower back, yet all she could think of was of the path his fingers were leaving on her hips, teasing at the design her freckles followed.

He murmured quietly against her jaw as he pressed a kiss there, the sound low and husky. “Now, Swan, I know this may sound a bit forward, but do you think we could…”

She opened her eyes to give him a disbelieving look, choking back a laugh at the way his hair was in complete disarray - oops, - yet still could pull off the mischievous look. “Let’s not go too wild, okay?”

He pulled minimally back from her to put his hands up in the air. “I was gonna say ‘make some pancakes’ but now that you mention it…”

She swatted at his arm, relishing in his ear-to-ear grin as he stared at her. She could lie to herself and insist that the fluttering in her stomach meant that she had drunk too much the previous night - she hadn’t - or that she had had too much for breakfast - maybe - but then again, she had felt that same thing long ago, and always around Killian, when he would look at her just like he was doing right then.

She only hoped he felt a similar reaction to her.

“Since when do you know how to make pancakes?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow. She definitely didn’t recall him cooking breakfast during their freshman year.

“Cooking and Related Culinary Arts. I wasn’t that bad at it.”

She sighed dreamily, propping herself on the counter until she was sitting over it, swinging her legs. “I wish you’d stuck with it so you could feed me forever.”

Something dark crossed his expression after that, but before she could dwell on it further, they heard Anna’s clapping from the foyer.

“Newcomers are here!”

She choked back a surprised yelp as he settled between her legs and let his head fall over her shoulder, his hair tickling her collarbone. “Ugh.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. I just wish I could keep you for myself.”

She bit back a giggle - because Emma Swan didn’t just giggle, no matter how adorable he looked whining like a ten year old - and threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. “Tricky, that, with almost twenty people in the same house.”

He purred at her ministrations, lips pressed against the hollow of her collarbone, imprinting a smile over her skin at her answering squeal. “When we get back I’m gonna lock you in my room.”

“Really?”

“And there’s nothing you can do about it.” There was a dark hint of a promise in his voice, which didn’t help with her squirming.

“I can sneak out of the window.”

He bit the skin he had been previously kissing, muffling a laugh against her neck. “Only if you want me to climb down behind you.”

He was definitely playing with fire, then. She plopped her head back against the shelf, staring him down.

“I’m not getting rid of you anytime soon, right?”

His answering smile was feral. “Not a chance.”

It was that smile - that very moment, that instant in which she realized what they were saying, what they were promising, what all of this entailed, that made her pause. Her hands locked on his shoulders, and before she knew it, she was talking. “Killian, I...”

“I know.”

She startled, eyes widening as she stared at him. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

His eyes were soft. “But I do. You were going to say that even if what happened last night - what has been happening lately and today - is great, you don’t want to rush it. That we should take it slow,” he said, interrupting with a long-suffering sigh. “I agree, you know.”

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more, the fact that he had practically picked her brain or that he actually agreed with her. “You do?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I know it’d be too easy to go back to how we were, to that… easy thing we had, and believe me, I want nothing else but that, to just be with you. But the truth is we’re not the same we were back then. We’ve gone through too much,” he explained, softer this time, and she was reminded of the times he had calmed her down when she was stressed, of his voice on the phone when she cried on the other end about stupid decisions and fights with friends and of bittersweet memories being too much.

She focused her gaze on the material of his shirt, pulling at it with her fingers, afraid of looking at him. “I want it to be the same but at the same time I don’t.”

He tilted up her chin with his finger, staring earnestly at her. “We can have that, or we can have it better.”

With a sigh, she pulled one leg under the other, precariously balancing herself on the counter and asking quietly, “So then what are we if we’re not together? Are we a couple in the making? Friends who kiss each other? Do we get to hold hands? Have sex? What are the rules here?”When she looked sideways at him, she found him staring wistfully at her legs, his free hand stroking the skin.

“We’ll go figuring things out. Step by step.”

She wanted to frown, or complain - because if she had ever liked anything, it was order, and reaffirmation, and knowing how things worked and where she stood.

But, the truth was, where feelings were concerned, there was no way of  knowing for sure.

Mary Margaret’s hopeful voice echoed inside her head, ‘take a leap of faith’ and all her cheesy nonsense she liked to deliver around to whomever was near.

She gazed up at him, finding him already focusing on her, and she nodded, letting herself smile timidly. “Okay.”

If she were anybody else, she would have missed the tender flash crossing his face before shifting his attention to the skin of her bare legs, - damn Elsa for the skirt idea. “About the sex, though…”

Needless to say, he got a twin slap on his other arm, but not before he got to cage her in his arms, pressing her to him and kissing her again.

Several times.

“Jones, bring that pretty arse of yours here right now or so help me God…”

She retreated from him to send him an inquiring look.

He looked innocently back.

She prepared herself to punch his arm again.

He finally just said one word.

“Oops.”

“What did you do?” she almost whined.

The nervous ear-scratchin may have fooled her if it weren’t for the glinting in his eyes as he added, “I may have left something of mine inside August’s bag…”

“Dirty underwear? Seriously?”

“They’re actually clean but he doesn’t really need to know that, now, does he?”

“You’re impossible.”

“JONES!”

August didn’t sound happy.

“Coming!” He paused a second, as if considering his own words, and leered at her with a wicked grin on his lips. “Maybe not that but…”

She facepalmed, begging him to leave with a wave of her free hand, and for once, he complied, whistling to himself as he left, the bounce in his step unmistakable.

Idiot.

She entertained herself by tidying up the kitchen, setting everything in its right place before lunch and washing the dirty cutlery her friends had left around. She didn’t mind, though - God knew she left messes behind at the house, so, whatever - and she had kicked them out of the kitchen earlier, so, really.

“Hey Emma.”

She almost dropped the couple of glasses she was putting back in their place, hand automatically flying to her chest in fright. She was met with amused hazel eyes, and she let out a breathless laugh. “Oh. Hey Neal. Didn’t know you were coming.”

Neal shrugged, approaching her. “None of these idiots felt like driving so…”

“So they made you?”

“Something like that.”

She snorted. “Typical of them. I’m surprised Robin didn’t offer, though.”

Robin did like to drive. And play his special tapes made for trip roads, carefully labelled and numbered for every stage and stop in the trip. He was special that way. True story.

Neal grimaced as if something he had eaten hadn’t sat well with him. “He was too busy shoving his tongue into Regina’s throat in the backseat of my car.”

“I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Not sorry,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughed. She was going to ask him where Tamara was - she had promised she’d come even if she had to kill someone in her study group to get finished with their project Saturday night or so she’d told Emma, - when Killian walked back in, holding his backpack and frowning.

“Swan, did you perchance find my - oh.” He froze mid step, carefully appraising the situation. Neal had gone completely still, scowl firmly in place as he stared him down.

“Jones,” he acknowledged stiffly after what felt like an eternity.

Arching an eyebrow, Killian tipped his head in his direction. “Hey, Gold.”

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Neal focused on Emma once more, clearly intent on ignoring Killian. Emma didn’t miss the way his fist curled at his side, though, and she was both alarmed and confused. “I’m gonna go check on Robin. See you around, Emma.”

With a soft farewell in return, she studied him marching away, still thrown off by his behavior.

“That was awkward,” Killian surmised as he came back to stand beside her, staring at Neal’s retreating back with a frown.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“I don’t think he’s entirely comfortable with me, nor will he ever be. Nor am I with him,” he stated confidently.

Emma recalled the times when the three of them would spend lazy afternoons in their shared room in the dorms, watching lame movies, practicing beer pong with the rest of the pledges and raiding vending machines as they studied for midterms. Sharing private jokes and nicknames between them. They were happy memories, yet still they all had been tainted by a bittersweet aftertaste, regret and longing heavy on her tongue.

“Same here.”

Killian huffed. “Well, he at least talks to you. Acknowledges you’re in the room and all. I’m a hologram to him. I’m a ghost. I’m dead.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “Boo.”

“You’re rambling.”

“Well, feel free to shut me up whenever you please,” he said, voice dropping an octave lower as he nosed her shoulder. She would have called out his less than subtle way to avoid their earlier conversation when Tamara’s voice rang from the door.

“Emma!”

Killian growled something under his breath about people bloody interrupting his fun, and she patted his hair comfortingly. With a swirl of Chanel skirts and Jimmy Choos clicking on the floor, Tamara strode in her direction until she could hug her. “Lil’ sis. How did the project go?”

Tamara rolled her eyes. “Total bore. But hey at least I finished it,” she said with a smirk, and Emma just knew she had done some of that threatening she had told Emma about. Noticing Killian’s presence right there, she turned to wave at him. “Hi there.”

“Hi yourself. It’s nice to see you acknowledging my presence, at least,” he noticed with an amused tilt of his lips. Tamara shrugged, nonplussed.

“It’s not like we’ve had loads of occasions to talk, you know.”

“Not when your boyfriend is around, you mean.”

Tamara made a face. “That, too.”

His gaze slanted from Tamara and back to Emma’s, as if considering that piece of information for later, and Emma wondered if she was supposed to say something about it. It was not like there is anything to do about it, she guessed. The Killian/Neal drama had been over her, but it had gotten to a point where she had no idea if she should do something about it or just let it go.

Then again, everytime she had tried to do something to fix it, it had backfired, so she’d rather stay out of it. As if he had somehow heard her thoughts, Killian cleared his throat, picking up his forgotten backpack and getting the attention of the two sisters.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go with the boys. Wreak havoc. Mischief. Mayhem. Terror.”

She unsuccessfully fought an eyeroll. “Tool.”

He threw a wink at her, bowed at Tamara, and proceeded to literally cha-cha-slide to the outer deck where she could hear the rest of the group mingling. She found herself lamenting the lack of a see-you-later kiss.

She internally sighed. Yep. She was turning into one of those girls. To her defense, it was not her fault he was a damn good kisser.  

She must have been lost in thought longer than she thought, from the look that Tamara was throwing her.

“That’s… new,” she commented, and Emma passed a hand over her hair.

“Yeah. Things happened.”

“Tell me about it,” Tamara laughed. Looking back and forth between her and the place Killian had disappeared from, she smiled. “Whatever it is, I’m happy for you.”

Well, that was new. It wasn’t like Tamara really liked Killian, or even knew him at all, and from what she must have heard from Neal, Emma was pretty surprised her little sister didn’t automatically scowl whenever he was around like he had somehow offended her just by standing in the same room as her. “You are?”

With one of those graceful shrugs that only people born and bred under the scrutinizing eye of the media and wealth ever mastered, Tamara finally stated, “You look happy.”

Emma considered that, and found herself even more bewildered at the realization that she actually was. After the past miserable months she had had, it felt like finally being able to breathe.

Linking arms with Tamara, she led her outside of the kitchen. “Let me show you around. You can’t miss Glittering Ingrid’s room, after all - it’s a masterpiece.”

“Who the hell is Glittering Ingrid?”

* * *

Regina approached her later as she lounged in one of the hammocks beside the pool, where their friends had decided to spend their last morning. “I hear stuff happened.”

“Don’t even.”

Regina pursed her lips. “I’m just saying…”

“I know what you’re gonna say and I’m telling you to save it,” Emma cut her off, biting her tongue just in case she reminded her older sister about that time she insisted on giving Emma love advice and how that had turned out.

(Back into Killian’s arms for a night.) (Not bad.)

With a long-suffering sigh, Regina recognized defeat, plopping at the free chair at her left and sipping at her straw. Emma had no idea where she had gotten a cocktail, but if she were inclined to bet, she’d guess she’d made Robin bring a mixer with something homemade. The girl was too classy for beer, or so she insisted on claiming.

They spent the rest of their morning lazing around, laughing at the boys as they joked around - especially at the innocent (and not so innocent at times) teasing between the two groups of greeks. David and Robin were more than happy to poke fun back at the Kappa Taus, whereas Neal looked about to bite someone’s head off as soon as one of them made a joke about the Omega Chis.

Emma had never seen such an entertaining testosterone war. It was pretty fascinating, if she said so herself.

She’d have thought it would rest there, but it appeared that Neal’s open dismissal of Killian’s persona was to be a constant for the rest of the day, if the football match the boys insisted on playing was of any indication. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so glaringly obvious: the both of them were sorted into the same team, to Neal’s visible chagrin. It became pretty clear after a while that even when Killian was free and ready to receive any pass, Neal would never do so, opting to follow through and more times than not lose the ball in favor of their opposing team.

She clearly wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Yikes,” Ruby murmured, adjusting her sunglasses, whereas Mulan shook her head sadly.

“That’s… not subtle. At all.”

Tamara sighed, turning towards Emma as if bracing herself for a fight. “Yeah, about that…”

“What?”

“Neal kinda wants to kill him.”

Emma raised an eyebrow questioningly. “As opposed to everyday since freshman years debacle?”

Tamara made a face. “His exact words were ‘I wanna smash my fist through his fucking smartass face’” she finished, making air quotes. The rest of her friends stared back and forth, and Emma tried piecing everything together.

She only got a pointed look in return.

Oh.

Oh.

She almost jumped from the hammock, but decided against it just in case Aurora stole her seat from her. Those things were comfy. “Me? What? But he’s with…”

Ruby threw her hands up in front of her, sushing her. “Male egos are a fragile thing.”

“It’s not only that, I’m pretty sure he’s upset about what happened with Milah,” Tamara added, and a collective gasp resounded around her.

Emma’s eyes flashed in anger. “That had nothing to do with him. He doesn’t have a thing to say about it.”

Tamara nodded understandingly, and Emma realized that she had only shared with her as a warning,not because she necessarily agreed with Neal. “I know. I made him promise not to do anything stupid.”

She fought back a snort.

“Well, like male egos… male brains are as useless if not more,” Elsa declared, and there was an answering hum of agreeing sounds from the rest.

“I’m gonna need a drink, aren’t I,” she mourned, staring longingly at the wine bottle on the table. Before she knew it, she was being served one.

The sound of their clinking glasses echoed in the air, humming in harmony with the wind rustling against the trees. It smelled of peace and calm, but something inside her told her it was about to be broken.

Sooner rather than later.

* * *

Lunch had been going well enough, to Emma’s surprise. It should have calmed her, but the truth was that it only put her more on edge, because she was a downer that way. She tried to lose herself in conversation with Anna and Kristoff, who sat at her left, and trying to ignore Killian’s ridiculous quips, sitting in front of her and sending her as many smoldering glances as he could just to make her squirm.

Douche.

As she went to chug the rest of her glass, she scowled at it, noticing it was empty. Looking around for the pitcher of water, she frowned, as it was empty. Before she could get up, Killian had already snatched it in his hand, trotting towards the kitchen and coming back in a brief minute, wasting no time in refilling her glass and winking her in the process.

“What a gentleman,” Anna commented, grinning, and Killian bowed gallantly - or what passed as gallantly - at her.

“My, thank you, milady. Glad to know chivalry is not dead.”

There was a loud snort coming from the other side of the table, where the three Omega Chis had been assigned, probably in order to avoid what Emma feared was about to go down right now.

“If you’re the one example of chivalry, then I hope it stays dead.”

Ruby’s facepalm was almost as loud. “Here we go.”

Killian straightened up, leaving the pitcher back on the table and walking back to his seat with measured steps. Once settled, he searched for Neal’s face in the opposite line of people. “Excuse me, mate, but I believe I have done nothing to you, so why don’t you stop the passive aggressiveness and say what’s on your mind?”

Neal inhaled sharply, and for a moment Emma was worried that he’d stopped breathing altogether. “Oh, you haven’t done anything to me? Really?”

“Pray tell, I’m listening.”

“Guys, I don’t think…” David, bless his soul, tried his most reassuring voice, sweeping his arms in both directions attempting to calm them down - to no avail.

“All of our furniture up the roof?” Neal inquired as the group gasped.

“You almost got my pledge expelled,” Killian declared calmly, and there was a murmur of approval from his brothers.

“Screwing my girlfriend the first week of the year?”

(“Ooooh.”)

“She caught you screwing another pledge.”

(“OOOOOOH.”)

(If this hadn’t been about her, she’d have probably enjoyed it.)

“What about breaking my cousin’s heart?”

Emma slammed her hand down on the table, glaring at him. “Neal, -” she started, but he didn’t let her continue, pointing an accusing finger at her instead.

“How can you defend him? He broke yours too! He’s the reason why Graham left you! He has always pined for you, no matter who was in between! When you were with me, with Graham, and even when he was with Milah!”

She would have sworn they could hear crickets sounding in the distance, the silence was so deafening. She bit her lip, considering her next words as if her life depended on it. “That is none of your business.”

Neal didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Throwing his napkin on the table, he turned to stare her down, glowering in her direction. “Isn’t it? Well, I don’t care if it isn’t because I sure as hell won’t shut up.” He shifted his attention back to Killian then, his words dripping venom. “Everybody may buy your never-growing-up bullshit but I know better. You’re just a fucking kid who knows nothing about responsibility or commitment. You don’t even have a major, for Christ’s sake. You go around partying and sleeping in while the rest of us try to do something for ourselves, - well, guess what? One day you’ll be all on your own here, because of it. Sleeping around with freshmen girls won’t be so satisfying then.”

If silence had been oppressing earlier, now it was positively lethal.

Only Killian dared to break it. “You’d know, you’re the one who slept with one during rush.”

There was another collective gasp, and Emma would wonder later how strange it was that nobody else attempted to put a stop to it, hanging on every barb exchanged as if their lives depended on it.

Neal, unfazed by the comeback, snorted a bitter laugh. “You wanna know what the funniest thing is?” She blinked, taken aback, as he pointed at her. “Now that she’s single, and so are you, she still isn’t with you. Because you are a loser.”

Tamara, of all people, cut in then, her best daughter-of-senator voice booming over them, cold and hard. “Neal, that’s enough.” Not waiting on ceremony, she stood up and jerked his arm up until he was up with her. “You’re coming with me.”

“I didn’t do anything!” he protested, even if he was already letting himself be led inside the house by a very angry girlfriend.

“You ruined the perfectly nice meal we were all having, so yeah, you’ve done something. Go to the kitchen.”

By way of showing his displeasure with his sudden exit, he slumped his shoulder and stomped out of the deck and inside the house. Tamara’s gaze was worried and apologetic as she searched for Emma’s, mouthing a ‘sorry’ at her as she followed him, probably to continue her scolding.

Emma had never appreciated her little sister so much.

As if echoing her thoughts, Ruby picked up the six pack he had stashed under his seat, dropping a can in front of her and taking another for herself. “Yeah, definitely in need of a drink.”

Killian hadn’t moved or spoken at all since Neal’s departure, almost detached of everything going around them. She debated what to do - call his attention? Kick his shin? Throw a glass of water at him? She hadn’t truly given too much thought to Neal’s biting remarks, only to how they’d affect him. She had guessed they wouldn’t sit well with him, but she honestly had expected him to jump at his former friend and knock him out. Instead, he had just… sat there, taking it all in.

And that was what worried her.

Someone screamed, and she was violently reminded of her surroundings as she realized it was Aurora, who was wildly pointing at the other end of their table, where something definitely brown and furry jumped up and down until a tray with most of the leftovers from their barbecue was precariously balanced. Kristoff whistled.

“Sven! No!”

Mary Margaret gaped at him, “Sven!?”

He trailed until he swatted down to pat the dog, who munched happily at a chicken wing as if his life depended on it. Kristoff petted him affectionately, shrugging back at them as they stared aghast at the scene. “He shows up from time to time. He loves carrots,” he added as an afterthought.

Everybody seemed to take the distraction as their cue not to comment on their earlier drama, content with sharing the rest of their meal with the stray dog and only approaching safe conversation topics. Nobody dared mentioning Neal, even though his voice and Tamara’s could be heard from time to time from their room window. Emma tried to get Killian’s attention, if only to just nod, smile, take his hand in hers, to let him know that it was okay, but the only response she got was him shaking his head at her when she caught his eye, smiling ruefully at her.  

After getting all the packing done and put away in the cars, she made her way towards him as he stood by the trunk of his ride. Belatedly, she realized he was smoking, and knowing him it meant he was either nervous or upset.

(She’d go with the second option.)

She took a breath, rocking back on her heels. “So. Race you to campus?” she carefully asked, looking up at him through her lashes, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t push her away.

Her heart fell at the way his eyes flitted between her and the ground. “Thought you’d learned your lesson by now, Swan,” he attempted to joke.

“Hey, about earlier, I -” she started, sounding by all means like the words she was about to say felt heavy and sour on her tongue.

He pressed his hand to his eyes, a bitter laugh escaping. “I don’t really feel like talking about it, if you don’t mind. Please.”

She contemplated ignoring his plea because, hell, she needed to talk about it - they needed to talk about it, if he was going to get in such a funky mood after what had happened over lunch. She wasn’t even entirely sure what was what had set him off: the Milah mention, the comment about him never letting Emma go, the loser one… There was material enough to wonder what had pushed him over the edge.

She just wanted to comfort him.

Sensing he was in no frame of mind to do this now, she just nodded, but couldn’t help herself from saying, “Okay. Just wanted to let you know that Neal’s an ass. And wrong.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke before replying. “Is he?”

She frowned. “Yes, and you shouldn’t listen to him.”

He gave her that same smile from earlier, the self-deprecating one that made her wish she could wipe it off his face by pulling at the corner of his lips, drawing the grin she beloved on instead. He took one last drag before throwing the remnants of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it almost viciously.

She winced.

He finally met her eyes, and he almost seemed to be smiling. “Drive safe, Swan. No speeding.”

“Sure,” she murmured back. Before she had time to even react, he was walking back to the house to get his brothers and set off, and something desperate and angry and above all worried crawled over her.

After everything, after the previous night - they were parting ways like that?

No fucking way.

“No goodbye smooch?” she asked, loudly enough for everybody in the house to hear - not that they’d notice, anyway. Everybody was worried enough about not forgetting anything to mind their lovers quarrel, if that was what this was.

He froze on his step, hands curling into fists at his sides. Unknowingly to her, she had started shaking, a paralyzing fear that he would just leave leaving her unable to move and crawling through her veins.

She wasn’t sure how much she could take.

She didn’t want to found out.

She almost broke down when he cautiously made his way back to stand in front of her. He must have taken in her stricken expression, as he moved to cup her face, his thumb rubbing the apple of her cheek softly. He leaned down just as she tilted her face up, almost in a silent plea seeking his lips with hers, until they collided, warm and soft against hers.

She hated that it didn’t taste as joy, as home, tainted by something that she still couldn’t place and had no idea how to fix.

Not yet.  

She hated that as she pulled away the first thing she saw wasn’t his answering grin, or darkened eyes by lust.

Instead, it was a shy, almost tender look that faced her. “See you on the other side,” he said, and her heart lifted, bursting with hope.

They’d be okay.

They had to be.

“Cheeseball,” she called back as he resumed his walk back inside, calling out for his friends as she went behind the wheel.

* * *

She didn’t exactly know where the other side was, but it sure as hell wasn’t back home.

Besides a casual answer to a text, Emma didn’t hear from him for weeks, and she had almost convinced herself that everything that had happened during that weekend had been but wishful thinking on her part.

* * *

To be fair, it wasn’t like she had come barging down to his house and demanding to talk to him, but she had wanted to give him that space he had silently asked for when they said goodbye at Elsa and Anna’s aunt’s house. Space for what, she still wasn’t sure.

Mainly because he insisted on not talking to her.

A long-dormant memory of his voice teasing her for not being ‘very receptive’ came and went from time to time, and she could only scoff to herself. Look who’s talking.

Probably the straw that broke the camel’s back was when she tried calling him a couple of weeks - twelve days, her mind insisted angrily, but who was counting, really - definitely not her - not at all - in mid March, when days started becoming longer and with spring around the corner. It was a great excuse to ask him to go grab a coffee, even if he insisted on having it the Irish way, really.

She had prepared herself for the conversation for hours, going through every possible come back and possibility through her head and driving Ruby and Elsa crazy as she paced and considered her options.

Shame he didn’t even pick the phone.

As she stared at the blank screen with a frown pulling at her lips - and the prickling of tears behind her eyes - she heard Elsa sigh. “That went well.”

* * *

“Damn it,” she swore under her breath. Many people she’d encountered in her life were actually convinced that being pledge educator was fun or easy, which had had her torn between being angry and hysterical at the same time. ‘Don’t you have to like, tell them to do crap?’

Apparently her job in the house, to outsiders in the Greek system, sounded more like taking care of a dozen puppies instead of organizing every single event along with making sure each class didn’t put the good house name to shame.

The amount of streamers, glittered baskets and stuffed animals she had had to put up together for her pledges would speak for themselves in case she decided to show those misguided minds what her work in the house entailed.

And Emma, to the surprise of no one, wasn’t really the best at sewing, as the amount of times she had pricked herself with the needle in the last hour proved. Not that she’d complain - those costumes had to be done by the end of the week, and she had offered to help after all.

“Hey.”

Emma swore again as the needle leapt from her hand and fell out of her reach on the floor out of her sight.

Great.

Tamara neared her with a cautious expression, and Emma sighed, patting the free seat on the couch. “Hi.”

“Why does it look like a marshmallow swallowed you?”

She looked around herself and confirmed that her little sister wasn’t wrong. “Don’t ask. Mary Margaret asked me to help with these. Glitter and pink apparently make everything better.”

She was met with a grimace, and Emma bit back a chuckle. “Yeah, well, not by my standards,” Tamara declared, eyeing the fairy costumes with distaste. Emma stopped herself from sharing that she and the rest of her class would have to wear them.

That was gonna be a ball.

Elbowing her weakly, she passed her part of the cloth until it was resting on her lap. “Shut up and help, pledge.”

They worked peacefully for a while, exchanging brief bits and pieces of information - Tamara had passed that project of hers, Emma had been sick the week before but was feeling better, - and of course, gossip, - apparently Wendy and Tink had been fighting or so Tamara believed from what she’d been able to hear through the walls, and she was inclined to believe that it had something to do with that Peter guy, - which Emma appreciated as a way to keep her mind occupied.

As Tamara pulled one of the skirts up to inspect her work, she casually said, “So, apart from drilling a hole into your phone by sheer staring at it, what do you think?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Wow. Smooth.”

“I’m just saying,” Tamara added indifferently, even though the way she kept glancing at her from the corner of her eye said otherwise.

And there was the fact that she wasn’t lying.

Emma picked up her phone, which had been lying at hand’s length on the low table by the couch and perfectly silent for the entire day - besides a text from Ruby asking what was the name of that hair conditioner she had bought the last time. Gripping it in her hand and almost wishing to crush it just by sheer frustration, she threw it to the other end of the couch half-heartedly. (She was bothered by Killian’s radio silence, but she didn’t want to break her phone over it.) “I’m pathetic.”

Tamara chuckled. “You’re not. Haven’t you seen him since that weekend?”

She shook her head. “Just twice. Once he literally ran away from me - but he was being chased by the guard’s dog and the rest of his pledges were with him, so I didn’t take it to heart.” She paused, hating herself for the way she knew she was smiling softly as she recalled the moment. Even if they hadn’t even talked, just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it ‘Swan! Sorry, gotta run’ tossed over his shoulder as Victor dragged him along with the rest of his brothers, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from laughing at their carry-ons. “The second time he was with Henry but he didn’t stick for long.”

That one had been awkward. She had been exiting the coffee shop when Henry had called for her from one of the tables outside, and as she had walked to him, she had seen him sitting there too. She had slowed her steps, almost unsure of what to do, but finally had thought that, really, she hadn’t done anything, and if he didn’t want her there then he should be the one to leave.

He had acted perfectly civil towards her.

Which meant that he hadn’t acted like himself at all.

He had fled the scene as soon as he could, excusing himself from staying by claiming he had to go to the library - earning an eyeroll from her, because, really? She could count the number of times he had been in the library and they were all because she had made him come with her.

Henry had been quite curious about it.

“What was that about?”

“What?”

“The scoffing and walking-around-eggshells thing.”

“The library? Really?”

“He has been going a lot lately.”

“Or so he tells you.”

A frown had pulled at his lips, inspecting her closely. “I thought you two were okay. More than okay.”

She had dropped her voice, finger caressing the rim of her glass. “Yeah. Me too.”

At her side, Tamara coughed, startling her out of her memory. She bumped her shoulder with hers in an attempt to look reassuring, even if by knocking the little sewing box Mary Margaret had let her borrow it only came out as clumsy. “He’ll come around. I mean, he has to grow up at some point, doesn’t he?”

Emma didn’t answer, focusing on picking up loose threads and needles from the carpet instead of on an answer for her.

****  
  
  


Emma had a love/hate relationship with vending machines.

She loved that they were everywhere.

She hated that they hated her.

Especially when she had already slipped the money inside and the freaking thing insisted on keeping her Apollo bar, which had gotten stuck right before it fell.

She hit it as gently as it could praying for the laws of physics to be on her side. Sadly, Newton wasn’t really receptive, she thought morosely as she glared at the candy bar still hanging precariously in its place. “Fuck.”

She hit it a second time, and then a third time but gravity wasn’t feeling particularly helpful that day. She was about to kick it instead - she did throw a mean kick if she said so herself, - when a dark silhouette exited the library back door, startling her. She pulled away from the machine as casually as she could in order not to raise anyone’s suspicions, but it was mere seconds until she realized she had been noticed.

It was Killian.

He looked… well, awful. Not in a bad way per se, but in an… unkempt, not-sleeping-enough way.

She wasn’t proud of the tiny swelling of vindication that she felt as she took him in.

(She had never claimed to be a good person, either way.)

He carefully stepped towards her, propping his shoulder against the vending machine. The fluorescent light framed his face, making his eyes glint even brighter than they usually did. “Hey,” he said. His gaze quickly swept the scene, and it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together - the candy bar was pretty telling, still half out of its place, and her scowl must have been unmistakable. He pressed his lips together in order not to openly smile at her. “Breaking the law without me, Swan? Not cool.”

She growled, not minding his presence now that he knew what she was doing. She kicked her knee against the side of the machine, grimacing at the grime that its dusty surface left on her jeans. “I paid for that thing, I’m gonna get it even if I have to punch this glass and take it.”

She had rounded it in order to see where it was plugged, but it was pulled up right against the wall and there was no way she could move it on her own. Resigning herself to her fate - meaning: no chocolate for her, - she came back to find waving the candy in front of her face. She picked it up warily, frowning at the machine and consequently at him. He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “I always had longer arms.”

“And longer lashes. Very feminine.” He smirked at her, batting said eyelashes, and she bit down a groan. Her first instinct was to wave and leave, in proper Jones fashion as of lately, but something made her stay instead. “What are you doing here?”

He shuffled his feet self-consciously, and she arched an eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he finally admitted, “I was at the library, actually.”

She wished she had left. “You?”

“Me.”

She breathed, and couldn’t help the pained grimace that crossed her face. “Right. Well, this has been nice but I gotta get back.”

Spinning on her heel, she walked back in the direction she’d come from - the library, in fact, where she had most definitely not seen him, - and trying to gulp down tears. God, this was stupid, she was stupid for ever thinking that this would work.

His fingers suddenly were at her wrist, and she fought the urge to jerk away from his grasp. “Emma, wait.”

She whirled around to face him, trying to reign in her temper. The idea that he was openly lying to her face just to avoid her was too much to bear. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk to me just say so. You’ve made it abundantly clear you’re avoiding me so why stop now?”

He frowned at her, in something that looked a lot like disappointment. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to talk to you, I came over right now, right?” His voice was tentative and confused, and most of all, sad.

She had no idea what he was doing anymore.

She braced her arms around herself, unconsciously bracing herself from what came next. “Just because you thought I’d kick the machine and probably break my toe or something.”

He heaved a sigh. “I am at the library. Really.”

She looked at him, and read no lies in his face. But instead of saying anything or hearing what he had to say, she just pressed her lips together and made to leave again.

“I promise I am. I have to turn in an assignment but my partner kind of bailed on me,” he insisted, eyes panicked. She deflated, sighing tiredly.

“Who?”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, a mix of a laugh and a whimper. “You probably witnessed it earlier. Will Scarlet?”

She stumbled on her feet. Will Scarlet was kind of the Kappa Tau exemplary alumni without actually being in the house. The guy’s second name could perfectly be Trouble: he sassed back the teachers, showed around wreaking havoc wherever he went, enjoyed being a ladies man a little too much, and of course, liked his drinks spiked.

A jewel, pretty much.

She had heard the poor librarian, Mr. Lumière, kicking him out of the library earlier. From what she had picked up from the amused conversations at her table, he had been found out laying between rows of books asleep, completely drunk.

Mr. Lumière hadn’t been amused.

She guessed neither had been Killian, from the bothered look on his face as he mentioned his partner.

“Oh,” she started lamely. “Damn.”

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah. I have to get it done before my next class. On my own.”

The idea of Killian being so adamant on finishing whatever it is he had to turn in and his troubles to do so had momentarily stopped her from focusing on what it really mattered - what still managed to make her blood boil. Frowning at him, she stepped closer until they were face to face. “That still doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me.”

From his stricken expression, she guessed he hadn’t been ready for that question. “I…,” he started, as if trying to figure out anything to say. Finally, he looked away, mumbling, “I’m sorry.”

It was more of a whisper, and it tasted of broken promises and regret.

Emma’s eyes narrowed on him. “Not enough.”

“Emma…” He said her name as a plea and a prayer, as salvation and as a curse, and not being sure she could take what he meant to add, she put her hand in front of her.

“I know we said we should take it slow but this makes a girl wonder. Was it all the thrill of the moment? The chase?”

He looked horrified, gaping down at her with his mouth opened. “Of course not,” he said, taken aback.

“Then what is it? Because of what Neal said?” she said, the words coming out rushed, and he backed away, pressing one hand to his temple.

She didn’t really need an answer for that, after all. Just by watching the shadows crossing through his face at the mention of that moment she just knew.  

“Oh God,” she said her throat tight. He shook his head, a little jerky.

“It’s not that. Not just that, at least,” he added carefully, and she growled.

“Then what is it?”

He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw for a heartbeat. “Do you trust me?”

“You’re making it damn difficult, Jones,” she admitted, the words heavy and sour, and flinching at the way he looked as if she had slapped him by uttering them.

She told herself he deserved it - he did - but she also despised herself for feeling it.

Shaking his head, he made as if to take her hand, or touch her; but he reconsidered it, his hand hanging lamely between them. “Emma, I need you to listen to me. I’m taking care of something right now, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t mean what I said. I thought you knew that.”

“I knew what?” she almost screamed, face flushed and voice raw.  

“That I’m in love with you,” he said quietly, and then she stopped breathing. She truly did, because even after what they had been through - all the drama, all the yes and noes, all the fights and misunderstandings, all the ill-timing, all the love and all the sorrow they had felt when it came to the other - it still felt like a punch to the gut to hear him say it.

(She had cried the first time he told her, back in freshman year. It had been at the least expected moment, really - just saying goodbye before going to class. She had gotten dressed and carefully picked up her bag from their messy floor, and sat on the bed to lightly peck him before leaving. As she had leaned down, he had slipped a hand in her hair, murmured ‘I love you’ and ‘See ya’ against her lips before briefly kissing them, and made as if going back to sleep.

She had been so taken aback she had stayed there for a minute, unmoving, passing a hand over her lips and quite not believing what had happened until his arms had come around her and she had fallen back to bed with him.

Needless to say, she had missed that morning class.)

And now, here they were - his quiet confession and her about to walk away, watching him and wondering what had happened to them. What had made him stop trying, stop reaching out for her.

She couldn’t reconcile the man in front of her with the boy that had so carefully put into words his feelings for her in a cocoon of blankets.

She breathed out.

“Then prove it,” she snarled.

“Prove what?”

“Prove that you love me, because no matter what you say, the truth is that you haven’t spoken a word to me since we came back,” she finished, reaching out to swat at a wayward curl tickling her face. With a sigh, she checked out her watch. Break time was definitely over, and she gripped her bag’s arm over her shoulder mightily, turning to go. “I need to go.”

“I will,” he said, and she stopped, inhaling sharply. Even if it hurt, even if it killed her, she could admit that she wanted nothing more than hear him say it. “Prove it to you, I mean.”

Part of her ached to snap at him, reminding him of how he had already broken a promise, made surrounded by woods and friends, faraway from there. Another part of her died to go over him and push him, demanding an explanation so she could forgive him already.

She did neither.  

“I hope you do.” She stepped away from him, leaving the vending machine behind (and him, with those stupid blue, blue eyes of his that she couldn’t, wouldn’t let herself look into right then, or she would lose her resolve and cave in and maybe do something stupid like touch him, kiss him, fall into him.)

(Falling for him - that was beyond repair.)

* * *

Whoever claimed the scariest thing in the world was anything else besides a frenzy last-minute pack of young girls, they were just wrong.

Or worst case scenario: a spring break induced frenzy.

Or so she told herself as she blew on her whistle - a present from Mulan, who had been worried enough about her losing her voice as she directed girls to and fro in their preparations, - and clapped her hands encouragingly. “Come on, ladies, get everything ready.”

Their bus still waiting in front of their house, she poked her head out to count how many of her pledges were already set to go. She spied Tamara’s head - visible enough thanks to a pretty unmistakable beach hat - who organized them in pairs. Emma wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose to help her or to play with them like they were her barbies, but she wasn’t complaining.

Satisfied knowing her pledge class was ready, she whistled once more to call for the rest of the girls in the house. Ruby descended the stairs and squealed - because that was what one did on spring break, clearly, - followed by Aurora, who jerked a thumb behind her.

“You’d better not go back up there. Tink was literally pulling at Wendy’s hair when I went to check if they had their things packed.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “What for? That Peter guy again?”

“Oh no. Apparently Wendy has lost that green dress Tink lent her,” Ruby pointed out, and Emma ‘ahh’ed.

“That makes sense.”

She ushered them outside, already frowning as she took in Ruby’s ridiculous suitcase. Most of the sisters were going on the house’s bus, but some of them had to drive by themselves, and they had offered to go together in Mary Margaret’s car. She counted - Aurora, Mulan, Mary Margaret, Ruby and Elsa were already taking dibs on their seats and fighting over what playlist they should listen to during the trip.

She only hoped someone had considered bringing snacks.

Closing the trunk with a loud thump, she lowered her sunglasses over her eyes, calling for their attention. “Come on, come on, come on! Let’s go!”

They all whooped - because that was another thing that they clearly did, because, well, spring break, - while she rounded the side of the car to find the only free seat in the back, at Elsa’s side. Hand on the door, she turned as she heard her name being called.  

Henry and Roland ran as if their life depended on it towards them. “Emma! Emma wait!”

She smiled despite herself. “Hey, you two. What is it? You okay?” She checked them over, just in case, but nothing seemed to be amiss - except for them being sweaty and grinning like mad from excitement.

First spring breakers. Daw.

Henry flapped a hand dismissively at her. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just - are you bringing sunscreen?”

She cocked an eyebrow, still staring from one to the other questioningly. “I am, but, even if I didn’t, there are these things called stores where you can exchange money for them.”

She had no idea what was going through their minds, but he had the decency to look at least half-apologetic. “Oh. Right.”

Roland, for his part, just chortled as those dimples of his flashed on his cheeks.

(The kid was beyond adorable, damn it.)

Her eyes slanted in on Henry once more, giving him her best stare down and relishing in his squirming. “Are you sure that’s why you two came over?”

“...we need a favor.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Do you have any room in your trunk?” he asked, and she frowned.

“For what?”

They exchanged a look, and Roland failed to control his laughter at Henry’s panicked expression. “...beer?” he finally whispered, and Emma facepalmed.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Her friends had lowered the windows to eavesdrop, and kept awwing and clapping like seals at her brother and his friend. (‘Stop encouraging them!’ she called out, earning a chorus of new giggles from inside.)

“He’s not. Kidding, that is.” Killian appeared behind her, barrel of beer on his arms, and she whirled around so fast her sunglasses almost fell from her face. Settling them over her hair, her heart did a double flip inside her chest at his warm smile. “Hey Swan. Nice shirt.”

(Make it a triple flip. She had always loved that shirt. She had always known he loved it too. She most definitely hadn’t worn it with that memory in mind.)

“I should have known this was your idea,” she finally said, making a face at him, and he left the barrel at his feet to put a hand over his chest.

“Actually it wasn’t mine, but I’ll take the blame.”

After their last encounter by the library, things had shifted. They hadn’t, like, gone back to normal - or as the ‘new normal’, whatever it was, - but at least he wasn’t openly ignoring her anymore. He texted her, she texted back. They ran into each other at campus a couple of times and he didn’t run away at first opportunity.

They didn’t kiss, or hug, or even touch, but he talked to her, teased her and made her laugh. It was something, and she’d take it until he finally decided it was time.

Time for what, exactly - she still wanted to know.

Groaning loudly, she went back to the trunk and opened it for what felt like the tenth time that day. She flailed an arm over the neatly organized baggage. “I had to fit all of these cases filled with too many clothes that none of us will get to wear, and now you’re telling you need more space?”

He made a point of inspecting her work, nodding to himself as if impressed. “Why not bring less clothes so there’s more room?”

“Girl code,” she answered as if on autopilot. Back leaning on the trunk - and ignoring the very real possibility of her friends listening to everything they were saying, - she considered the barrel with a frown. “And why not bring less beer so you don’t have to beg for room in other people’s cars?”

He flashed her a wide grin, the one that probably made every girl on campus feel like singing a Taylor Swift song. Damn him. “Point taken.”

Instead of letting it go, though, he did it.

He pouted.

And combined it with puppy eyes.

Shaking her head slowly, she bent in order to haul the beer over their cases. “I hate you.” She hadn’t even gotten to the barrel when he was already there, helping her carry it and making room so it’d stay put during the ride - and if it was close to Ruby’s case and she stomped it a little bit too viciously, she would never tell.

Threading his fingers through the hair falling over his forehead, he sent her a warm smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Emma Swan.”

(She did not blush.)

(Nope.)

Instead, she poked him - and did not dwell on how his shirt was plastered to his chest as a second skin, no sire, - shooing him away. “Yeah, yeah, now get lost.”

He stared for a moment, a question in his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”

It sounded like a plea, tasted like a question and smelled of a vow.

She took it.

“Sure.”

In a heartbeat, his lips curved into a smile, he leaned down to kiss her cheek, and ran away with Henry and Roland at his heel, who had been awkwardly standing in the back while they talked.

Her friends whooped again. Emma smiled.

* * *

40 hours later, and Emma swore she hadn’t signed up for this. Not that the ride hadn’t been fine - it had, until Ruby got restless and demanded to stop every time they could so she could pee, or Aurora begged for them to please play one of the playlists she had stored on her iPod, - but she was pretty convinced she had grown a few grey hairs while they were at it. Later came the check-in in their motel, full of groups of college students that had either just arrived like them or been there for a couple of days already on their way to tipsytown, and then the first night out, which they always planned as a pre-spring break kind of plan but ended up becoming as wild as any other.

(She had been beyond horrified at checking out the pictures in her phone the next morning. And her wallet.)

After sleeping through the morning and getting as much vitamin D as they could once they finally woke up, tonight they had agreed to go to one of Myrtle’s best well-known clubs. Ruby had ushered them inside after claiming a friend of hers wouldn’t charge them, and after a brief introduction to the guy in question - a rather cheerful guy called Peter, - they found themselves inside, drinks in hand and dancing to their hearts’ content.

Not only that, but Emma had been approached by a guy. He was nice enough, she guessed; and nice to look at - she knew - and he was kind of funny - not as much as…

She stopped herself from going there.

She was just talking with the guy, she was doing nothing wrong, right? Furthermore, she wasn’t planning on doing anything beyond talking with him. At least, from her part, her intentions were clear. His, though...

...Well, he kept looking at her like he wanted to bang her six ways to Sunday.

He didn’t waste too much time to drop hints about it, either.

“So, can I get your number?”

She fumbled a little with her glass, trying to avoid the awkwardness that was to come. “Ah…”

“Emma!” Ruby grabbed her arm and almost tore it from her, eyes frantic. “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We need to find Elsa, last time I saw her she was near the restroom but you know how she is, I’m pretty sure she went to the beach on her own or something...”

Sighing internally in relief, Emma sent him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Gotta go.”

He was nice enough not to be a douche about being stood up that brusquely, but just smiled softly, nodded at her and bid her farewell, wishing her a nice spring break. As far as dudebros she was bound to run into for the week, this one had been one of the nicest, to be honest.

Ruby tugged on her hand and brought her to their group, huddled at one of the side bars where they could get the waiter’s attention easily. “Okay, where did you last see - oh,” she stopped herself once she noticed Elsa there, as she tugged on a curl of her hair and talked loudly - something about braids, probably. Emma tilted her head to the side and stared at Ruby, silently demanding an explanation.

For her part, her friend just shrugged. “Yeah, I was just saving you. You’re welcome.”

Emma stared at her in befuddlement. “How do you know I wasn’t actually into him?”

“Please, You haven’t stopped checking your phone or looking around for Killian since we arrived.” The amusement in Ruby’s voice was almost as bad as the hot twist of nerves in Emma’s gut when she thought about him.

She still hadn’t seen him, which was.. fair, considering it had been only a day - forty two hours, her mind supplied unnecessarily, - and that the place was crowded with college students, but she couldn’t help being anxious.

“He’s gonna call, you know. And if he doesn’t it’d better be because he’s dying in some ditch or something.” Ruby smiled, a little wistfully. “I’m too invested in your relationship,” she added, as though that automatically implied her behavior was completely rational and warranted. Emma rolled her eyes.

“You are,” she said, but the smile in her voice was clear, and when she looked over, Ruby was grinning at her.

Leaving her empty drink on the bar, Ruby laced their fingers together, pushing her towards the center of their group. “In the meantime, we should have fun. So… dance with me?”

“Emma!”

Spinning around on her moderately high heels - also known as her good luck heels, mind you, she had never fallen in them… yet, - she threw her hands around her brother. “Henry!” She pulled back to take him in, noticing how he had cleaned up - probably had had friends from the Kappa Taus to sneak in to the club, she didn’t want to know about the fake IDs they surely had given him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get queasy during the ride here?”

Elsa’s loud ‘aw’ in the background probably contributed at the rate his blush was taking over his face. “Please stop embarrassing me.”

(The truth was Henry did usually get nauseous during long car rides. During a trip to Washington, he had been peacefully asleep, had woken up with a start and projectile vomited all over the seat.)

(It hadn’t been pretty.)

(They tried to play as if it had never happened, only recalling the memory when they were tipsy on wine coolers.)

She put an arm around his shoulder and hugged him to her side. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” She ruffled his hair. “So how’s your first spring break experience coming out? Everything you dreamed of and more?”

He shrugged. “I could have used a bigger room instead of the entire pledge class sharing but who am I to break eons of KT tradition.”

Her friends snickered, collectively sharing an internal eyerol. “Did you do anything exciting today?” Mulan inquired.

“There are a couple of things Roland told me we had to do, but I can’t remember…” he started, shaking his head as if trying to think.

Mary Margaret laughed. “Let me guess - it’s not visiting a museum or watching a documentary on the Discovery Channel.”

He gave them a knowing look, and Emma was terrified to notice how accurately it resembled Killian’s. “Like you did any of that your first spring break away from home.”

That got a reaction from them. Ruby leaned closer to him, like she was about to share a secret with him. “I seem to recall Emma getting a belly button that week…”

“...doing body shots,” Aurora continued.

“...almost joining a wet t-shirt competition…” Mulan supplied.

Emma scowled, tapping her foot on the ground. “Now you’re just making that up.”

“True. That was in our list that year,” someone remarked from behind, and Victor’s face showed up over Ruby’s shoulder before turning to bite the skin of her neck playfully. Ruby squealed, and soon their quaint group had been outnumbered by KTs, drinks already in hand. Killian offered Henry one and clinked them together, tipping his glass back in one go.

Emma tried really hard not to ogle at the way his throat moved as he gulped down.

She failed miserably.

She felt minimally better when she proceeded to drink hers and caught him watching the line of her neck as she did.

(She loved this dress.)

Soon, Grace and some of her friends had joined them after Henry texted her telling her where they were stationed. Emma made a quick exit to the bathroom at some point, running into Tamara during the trip back and bringing her along.

She had lost count of the dances she had shared with her sisters, or with Victor, who had insisted on trying a rather complicated move that almost ended in disaster. Throat parched, she smiled at the waiter as she asked for a water bottle. Killian turned up at her side, and they waited in peaceful silence together as she paid, greeted the waiter and greedily gulped down half of the water. She glanced at him as she left it with a thump over the bar, noticing the amused tilt of his lips.

“Swan,” he said, and offered her his arm. “Care to accompany me?”

She eyed him cautiously. “Where to?”

He grinned impishly, eyebrows wiggling. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

She sighed, but linked her arm with his and let him lead her out of the club without another word. He maneuvered them with ease, and she would have been marveled by that fact if she hadn’t seen him at every weekly party on campus crossing through seas of drunk students.

She hoped he didn’t notice the way her hands kept shaking, or how after a TriPi girl almost trampled her in her haste to join her friends her arm slipped from his and resolutely linked their hands together instead.

He squeezed her fingers. She squeezed back.

(She remembered the way he’d do that when they were in public, as a silent way to remind her he was there, that he loved her.)

(She remembered that she loved him back.)

They walked aimlessly around the sidewalk, until he silently cocked his head towards the beach, wordlessly asking a question. She nodded, and followed him to the wooden plank leading to the sand. She carefully toed off her heels, moaning in delight as she stepped on the cool sand. It was colder there, though; not much by any means, but she was thankful for the light cardigan she’d insisted on carrying in her purse. She decided not to comment on his apparent lack of reaction to any temperature - she had seen the guy exposing an alarming amount of chest during the worst weather ever, so this was probably nothing for him.

“So, I take it this year you’re not making a list?” he asked as they walked, with that tone of his that screamed of teasing and amusement purposely reserved to make her feel embarrassed.

Emma both hated and loved it.

“Will you ever let that go?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal. Like they were not making it a big deal by bringing it up. God. “It was cute.”

“I was a wide-eyed spring break virgin,” she protested, and bit the corner of her mouth at his smirk. “Don’t even try.”

“You were beach babe beautiful material indeed,” he said, and dropped his voice, adding, “Still are.”

“Jones, are you blushing?”

“I do no such thing. It’s just-”

Planting her feet in a particularly patch of wet sand, she stared up at him. “Look, spit it out. We’re alone and it’s been a long time coming, don’t you think?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, as he always did when he was mulling over something, and pulled back to stand right in front of her. “Right you are, as always.” He squinted at her for a moment, and then wrinkled his nose.

(She wished he hadn’t - he looked cute as fuck when he did that.)

“I know I’ve been a complete ass to you.”

He paused and just looked at her, like she was giving her time to process that last piece of information. Emma just blinked. “We’ve already established that.”

His eyebrows pulled together and he continued, “After that weekend in Ingrid Sparkles’ place -”

“Glittering Ingrid.”

“Will you please let me finish? I’m actually pouring out my heart here, woman.”

“You just said you were an ass!” she said, throwing up her arms in the air and almost letting her heels fly away. She let them fall to the sand with a muffled sound, just in case.

“Because you keep interrupting me!”

Then the mask of the Kappa Tau slipped away, and he was just Killian, her Killian, stepping closer and taking her hand in his, thumb rubbing over the spatter of freckles on her skin. Their relationship was so surreal, she thought to herself. As a foster kid she had never had many friends, and then Henry had come along, and then college and her sisters, and then him. Him, with his stupid innuendos and his charms and his wiggling eyebrows and his will to stay by her side even when she pushed him away. And him, always there, first by her side and then not, then in the background but always a constant. And then he was there again but with somebody else, and then he was by her side but alone, and now... now they were here.

And that’s what it came to, in the end - no matter how crazy the ride had been, she couldn’t really manage to regret it. Any of it.

He kept caressing her hand, voice low and soft. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have let what Gold said get to me, but truth is, it did. Mostly because he was right,” he said, and she dropped her gaze, tugging on his hand slightly. Fuck, they were still holding hands.

“He -,” she started, but he cut her off.

“He was. In three years, I never moved on from you. I didn’t even try, truth be told. I didn’t want to move on from you. And that was unfair - to you and Milah, both.”

She shook her head. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, and she swayed slightly on her feet, feeling like she was about to fall, on the edge of something and towards somewhere unknown. “You can’t really help how you feel.”

“I know. But that wasn’t the only thing he said where he hit a mark,” he said. He looked at her and smiled, lips pressed together, and she felt something lurch in her chest. If it was good or bad, she couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, especially when she had a brief idea of what he was about to say next. “It made me think of freshman year and that day, when you broke up with me. Remember it? You told me there was no future for us, because I would always act like a brat fratboy.” He said it almost sarcastically, but there was a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, and she squirmed awkwardly, fingers laced with his and still shaking. He sighed, and breathed something that sounded kind of like “You weren’t wrong, either.”

“Killian…”

“I love it here. I love it at the house, with the boys, with your sisters, with you. It’s where I have kind of found myself, where I’ve learned, where I met my best friends. Where I threw up due to drink poisoning for the first time. The place where I fell in love.” He caught her eye, reaching out with his other hand to put it over their entwined ones. “I know I have always given the impression that I didn’t care about my future. That was true, in fact. I didn’t really want to stick to the four years here and then be thrown out into the real world - I was convinced I still had too much to experience here. But then, I realized, I was fooling myself.”

She waited.

She was met with silence. He swallowed, running a hand through his hair, opening his mouth, running his tongue over his bottom lip, and closing it again.

She wondered why he had been able to let all that out but he seemed to be struggling with what was next.

She decided to help him.

“Why?”

He turned and looked down at her, serious and simple. “Because I am in love with you. Since that night in the library in freshman year during midterms, when you fell asleep on your book and even when I begged you to go back to your room, you stayed with me. I had never really thought about the future until you showed up.”

She felt like she was choking, and she swallowed how nervous she sounded. “What do you see?”

He peered down at her, and in the darkness he must have found whatever it was that he was looking for in her expression. “I want to be with you. I want to be good for you, to you, with you. I want to kiss you every morning and fall asleep with you everynight. I want to fight with you until my voice breaks, and make up by fucking until we can’t stand. I want to make you laugh for the rest of your life.”

She felt something building, stomach twisting and making it hard to breathe. This was it - this was what she had been waiting for for so long, after everything, after nothing. She squeezed his hand, and inhaled slowly, willing herself to relax. She didn’t really feel scared, even though a part of her warned her that she should, especially after what happened the last time it’d seemed like everything was rainbows and butterflies.

She felt… anxious, maybe; but in a good way, adrenaline coursing through her veins - and with it, a question. She stared at him, a puzzle in her eyes.

“Then why did you avoid me?”

His smile faltered. “I wanted to make sure our paths wouldn’t part by my insistence on acting like your customary fratboy asshole, or that I made the same mistake as in freshman year.” She frowned, taking a second to process that, but before she could ask anything he continued. “The day you saw me at the library - I was waiting for that bugger Scarlet, but I had also been setting my affairs in order with my advisor, checking if I could still graduate next year. With you.”

Words caught in her throat. She recalled Henry telling her about Killian going to the library, or how he had been missing in the last parties she had attended, and when she had subtly - or not so subtly - asked about him to his brothers they had shrugged it off, something about ‘being busy’ and ‘you will find out soon’. Even with everything that had happened and what she had seen Killian do for her, knowing that he had put a stop to his social calendar in order to catch up and make sure he had a chance to graduate next year with her was… overwhelming.

She suddenly felt a kind of secondhand guilt about the pressure she had unconsciously put on him for judging him for not having a future plan, for not knowing what he wanted to do with it - apart from having fun. She knew it was stupid to think that way, but at the same time, she just did.

She also felt stupidly lighter at his confession, and not because of what it meant for them - but for him.

She faced him, smiling despite herself at his hopeful look. “Killian, I wouldn’t mind if you took another year. Or two. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you have like, a plan, and motivation for a future, or whatever, but I want you to want it for you, not because you’re scared I’ll leave you behind,” she told him, her head feeling clearer. He shook his head adamantly in return.

“But I would. I love it here because of a lot of things, Swan, but the biggest factor is you.”

Her heart lurched inside her chest. A corner of her brain pointed out how this was playing out exactly the opposite of their first breakup, when she had accused him of loving campus life more than her. Now he was telling her that it was her what he most loved about it.

Her eyes burned.

“You told me to prove that I love you, and this is probably the best way I can show you how. You’ve unintentionally made me realize I want to move on.” He shook his head, smile widening. “I even chose a major, and I’m quite excited about it.”

Her eyes widened, and she gaped at him. “Which one is it?”

His smile was shy. “Marine Biology.”

Emma just laughed helplessly, recalling how he had corrected her so many times when ordering seafood and teaching her the proper name of the shrimp species and how she had sometimes run into him mesmerized by some documentary about sea life. His face was beet red and she was too happy to not find the situation funny right then.

“That’s what those classes you were taking were about? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He rubbed his neck self-consciously. What an adorable, adorable nerd. “I don’t know. I’m an idiot?”

She laughed and it almost hurt, scratching its way up her throat. She watched him inhale, his mouth curling, plump and wet. “You so are.” Without warning, she lunged at him, giggling at the undignified noise he made as he fell on his ass on the sand. She crawled up to him until she was sitting on his lap, and her hands cupped his face gently. “So - no more avoiding?”

“No.”

“And no more drama?”

“No. Just you and me.”

His arms came around her and rested on her sides, bringing her closer to him. She exhaled, feeling lighter than she had ever felt in her life. “I could live with that.”

“Me too,” he said, nuzzling her neck and cradling her against his chest. “I’m sorry it took me so long to grow the fuck up.”

He brushed his nose with hers, his breath ghosting over her lips. “It’s okay. I did my own dose of growing up too.”

“Did you now? I hope you don’t mind if I verify such a statement.”

“And how do you plan doing that?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. He reached up with his hand and cradled her cheek, his thumb drawing patterns on her skin.

“Well, I have a very good memory, darling, and not so long ago I got to inspect you very closely. See, your hair?” His fingers left her cheek to lightly thread through her curls, tugging gently on them and rolling them on his index finger. “Yeah, it has grown.” He gently put it behind her ear, and traced it lightly as a caress following the outline of her shoulder and her arm until getting to her hands, entwining them together. “Your hands, though?” He pressed a kiss on her knuckles. “They’re the same. And here…” He kissed his way down her cheek to her jaw, and down, down, through her shirt until he brushed his lips against the valley between her breasts. His fingers ran through her necklace, scraping his teeth over her collarbone and sucking on her neck. Suddenly, his hands were on her, cupping her breasts and smirking against her ear. “Now these haven’t changed.”

She slapped his chest half-heartedly, but put off a scathing remark when his lips crashed on hers. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, mind dizzy, and he only stopped so he could leave a new trail of kisses along her jaw and up her temple. She screwed her eyes shut, breath stuttering out.

“You do realize we’re in a very public location, captain?” she asked, letting go of him for a moment and reaching up to brush some hair off his forehead.

“You should have thought about that when you straddled me. And I knew you liked the title!”

“I never said-” She never finished what she wanted to say, gasping instead once he claimed his lips with hers again. She smiled, kissing him back, fiddling with his shirt because, well, what the hell.

* * *

_(Some time later)_

“Here’s hoping ‘getting berated by an incensed lady for public indecency’ was on your list. Might want to cross that one out.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And if they laughed in between kisses and fell on the sand and almost got into another heated situation then, well.

It was spring break.

 


End file.
